Entangled
by Wings On The Way Down
Summary: A compilation of one-shots involving F!Hawke/Fenris. All the romance, sex, humor, angst, simple silliness, and complicated nuances that occurs through their friendship/relationship. Mostly original scenes, and a few game scene iendmance.
1. Silences

**A/N: **I decided to start off this series of one shots with something mild and insightful. No sense in throwing all the steamy bits up at once, right? Yeesh, first fanfiction in about 8 years? It's nerve-wracking. SOMEONE BOOST MY CONFIDENCE!

**On Hawke**: I've tried to keep Hawke as ambiguous as possible as I know people like to picture their own Hawkes in these things. The only specifics that I've really given are: female, rogue, sarcastic/charming personality. Free fill to fill in the blanks however else you'd like, default or not. The point is to enjoy isn't it?

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><p><strong>Title: <strong>Silences

**Summary: **Hawke contemplates how silent Fenris is, and how she learned to understand his silence and even join in it. Takes place over all Acts and Post End Game, all rolled into a nice bite size chunk.

**Warnings: **Um…lack of dialog for the most part? Fluff. Starting pretty vanilla here.

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><p>It had been a long time since the two of them had been able to just sit and rest in peace and quiet. Since leaving Kirkwall there had been little time to do anything but keep moving. Keep planning and running and going.<p>

Turning a look to him, she regarded him silently as he sat there with his eyes closed and his features neutral. Fenris has one knee pulled up, with his elbow resting on his knee as he was supporting his chin with his hand and had been silent for hours now since they'd made camp. Despite how they both knew there was much to discuss.

Things would be different from now on. From fugitive slave to free man, from refugee to viscount, and now they were both fugitives once more. What was the saying? How the mighty have fallen…no, not fallen. Their running away was not a plummet, but a rise and things would continually change and there would be no stability.

As she watched him, Hawke smiled…that wasn't entirely true. There was at least one constant, one stability that she could rely on to take place.

Hawke was not a quiet woman, despite how her chosen profession called for it. Then again maybe that was the perfect reason that she wasn't. No, Hawke was loud and outspoken. She looked to make a joke out of everything she could and speak up even if no one wanted her to add in her two coppers. Someone had to be that person after all. It was a wonder then, probably more so to others than herself, how she got along so well with Fenris.

Fenris was decidedly not loud. If there was any fact about the elf that was true, it would be that. He was quiet and reserved, more apt to offer up a noncommittal grunt or snort if people did want a sound from him on something. If he was angry, he was more keen to grit his teeth and give a growl or snarl. Only when something really tapped his nerves and hit him deep did he lash out with words. Even then, they were more laced with venom of ill intent than screaming.

When they were together it was like that. Others expected her to be loud, they expected him to be quiet but when others were gone and it was just them alone, something interesting happened. While not a complete role reversal, there was a marked change in their habits.

Hawke was more reserved, quiet. She listened more than she spoke and when she did find her voice appropriate for use it was in comfort and confidence than just all out joking and sarcasm that she had the ability to wring out of any situation or word. If she thought about it, she would perhaps think that she was so quiet so that she could hear him speak.

Fenris conversely grew more talkative. Maybe it was the wine they were keen on always drinking together that made his tongue loose, or that he found a comfort in her and a certain bit of trust that made him want to speak what was on his mind. He wanted to ask questions so that someone could give him answers.

At the same time in their moments of singular company with one another, they weren't always like that either. Sometimes they both talked endlessly. Those were the times where it was flattery and word play. Questions and answers, humor and life history. Everything was easy. Tones and volume were free to express exactly what was going on inside one's head. Fenris had even learned to see right through Hawke's humor when she tried to use it to cover up something that bothered her. Their conversations were long and lasted well into the night with him walking Hawke home to make sure she got there safe in the darkest hours of the night.

The silences they shared were much more challenging. They mostly started with Fenris' own silence as he was either unwilling to talk or unable to for some reason. Perhaps angry, or thinking, or brooding. Whatever the reason, Hawke found herself silent in these moments as well. At first it started because he would not rise to any of her bait but did not ask her to leave, nor did she feel the urge to. They would sit and drink wine in silence, sitting across from one another by the fireplace.

Then Hawke started to realize that when the elf was silent was when he was speaking the loudest. His voice was found in his eyes, in his movements. With this secret in hand, Hawke set about to learn everything he said when he was silent and to communicate back in kind when he didn't want her words or felt she couldn't speak them. Their budding friendship needed this understanding, she realized and it was a challenge she was happy to accept.

The by far easiest of his body language to decipher was when he walked. Most probably saw it as him bearing the weight of the greatsword he favored, but Hawke had learned better. On the streets of Kirkwall, he let himself hunch a little, curl his shoulders in, kept his knees slightly bent. His head stayed down and his fingers slightly curled in to his palms. These were not because of his sword at all.

These were also not the motions of former slave habits, as others would think of him if they weren't thinking about the weight across his back and shoulders. He was protecting himself. Be it from fear or something else, he was tense under what looked like weight bearing or a cowed slave's posture.

He tried to make himself smaller to keep from touching others, to avoid the general day to day crowds. His head down was not him watching his feet or trying not to meet the eyes of others, but a tactical move. No one noticed his eyes roving about and taking stock of everything with his head bowed and his white hair falling in front of his face. He was always observant.

Fenris was ready to strike at any moment, coiled despite looking deceptively loose. He fooled everyone perhaps…save Hawke once she learned. Sometimes she thought that even he didn't believe her and gave her a dismissive scoff, but she knew the truth.

The odd job running outside the city told her that she was right. Running around the Wounded Coast, piddling around the Vinmark Mountains and trudging up Sundermount, these were places that he let his real self be known. Maybe he wasn't aware of it, or was keenly aware and relished the freedom he found in it.

When he walked in these places, it was clear he suffered no weight of a sword and no beaten habits. His back was straight and his shoulders back, his knees straightened to give him longer strikes and his head held high. Even his fingers fell limp at his side casually. Or at the very least, as casual as Fenris ever got.

Hawke often watched in approving silence as he showed his true colors somewhat. He was strong, determined to keep his earned freedom. He believed that his revenge would go as he planned and that when it was over he would truly be free. Fenris walked prouder than even the most snobby of nobles in Hightown.

Over the years, she continued to school herself in his body language. For instance, he fidgeted when he was talking about something that was truly uncomfortable to him. These things of simple subjects, flattery, flirting, when he was unsure and was looking for answers that he thought she could provide.

When he was drunk, or at least she would say he was tipsy at the very least he didn't fidget at all. Like the night he told her of his escape from Danarius. The catalyst that brought him into her life. He didn't sit silently and tilt his head or give a brief noise or fidget then. Just let it all pour out of him. It was only after he finished and she pushed her luck on their deepening relationship that he started fidgeting again. It was endearing.

Even Fenris was insecure, but never showed it. Out loud he was all raised hackles and snarling confidence and cocky assurance. Hawke knew better, again through silence. When she had offered to teach him to read, she could see the shame in the slight incline of his head and then the embarrassment that followed as he agreed to let her teach.

As they would sit together in her library, side by side in front of the fireplace to have the best light and she would have him practicing paragraphs out loud he would swallow and glance sideways, one eyebrow rising to ask if he was doing well. On the days that he stumbled and struggled over the words, growing frustrated but knowing she'd only push him onward his fingers would fidget at the corners of the pages. He was eager to get past the page he was on, or close the book altogether. Her favorite was when she was reading to him, giving him a break but continuing through his favored book, and he would relax back and close his eyes, his face going completely serene. A posture that said for once he was just enjoying himself and not thinking of anything else but enjoying the little things.

As words progressed from reading to her teaching him to write, another new set of silent actions. Often he would his catch his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying the bit of flesh as he painstakingly tried to recreate the pen strokes she had shown him. Sometimes when she came to practice with him, he all too eagerly reached for the ink and quill despite his outward grumbling and showcased his want to show her improvement.

The comfortable silences between them didn't last forever…one night spent together had broken something in him. Broken something that needed breaking, but he was scared of the pieces shattered on the floor would cut his feet and so he tiptoed around it all. That was when the painful and even more telling silence started.

When they were on the road, running some errand again for fun or otherwise and she would get hurt, he would stand closer than usual. Turn a look down at her but say nothing. _'I should have protected you better'. _When he was hurt, she would cast him a glance, tilting her head the slightest and he would stare back before giving the barest nod. _'Don't worry yourself Hawke'._

When they sat across from on another in the Hanged man, listening to Varric spin some tale and the mages around him put him on guard, he propped his elbows on the table, one hand supporting his chin to look bored while the other was wrapped around the neck of a bottle of wine to keep himself from hitting anyone. Hawke would stretch her legs out and let her one booted foot slide between his own bare feet in a comforting nudge. _'Don't let them get to you Fenris'._

He would drop his hands to the table and clasp his hands lightly together, crossing his ankles under her own and in effect trapped her foot for the time being between his ankles. _'What would I do without you Hawke?'._

She'd tilt her head and smile. _'Throw a table at Anders' head, probably.'_

There were times when he thought she wasn't looking, or noticing, when he thought he could stare at her at his leisure and no one would be none the wiser. His eyes glittered at these times, the slightest exhaustion showing in his face that reflected regret. One hand would find the wrist of the other then, fingers slipping under the red band of cloth that was tied around his wrist and grip tight. _'If only…'_

The deeper she understood his silence, the more words she heard. The more she heard him screaming out despite how his voice never made a sound. There was no use in using words to answer his silent screaming and Hawke would return things in kind to him. A brush against his arm, sitting next to him despite open space to sit where she pleased, a mere pause in step to wait for him to either catch up or keep closer. _'I'm still here Fenris'._

Even when her mother died, he was the only one who understood what she needed. Everyone else wanted to talk her head off…wanted her to tell them how sad she was. They wanted to regale her with stories of their own tragedy and lost family members, trying to tell her that they understood her pain. Fenris was the only one who didn't. Even though she thought she wanted to hear him talk too, he knew in the end what was best.

They had sat together in silence then too, close enough to touch but just enough space to not be so. Both of them leaned forward with their elbows on their thighs and hands clasped between their knees, the crackling fire the only noise.

He turned a look to her, furrowing his dark brows slightly and shifting his weight some to bow his head more to get a look at her own bowed face. _'If you need to cry, don't hold back because I'm here'._

Hawke shook her head lightly. _'I can't.'_

His back straightened then, as did hers and they shared another silent look. He questioned her with his eyes and she nodded, shifting lightly toward him as he rested his hand on her back comfortingly. _'I am here. I will always be here, no matter how far apart we may be. You will not lose me.'_

Tragedy seemed to bring out the best in their silences. Such was clear when she went to check on him after he fled from their encounter with Danarius. He was not leaping for joy over the magister's demise. Nor dancing, singing, drinking, laughing…she had found him sitting, hunched forward in his chair with a frown marring his features and his eyes closed.

It was clear to her that the revenge he had craved for years had left him feeling hollow, and was bringing him more pain. She sat down and simply waited for him to continue to ignore her of acknowledge her. When his eyes opened to gaze at her imploringly, _'What do I do now?'_, she offered a smile. _'Live'._

His hands came together, fingers hooking again under the now familiar red band of cloth at his wrist and he swallowed, the soft look entering his eyes signaling the drop of his guards. _'We need to talk…about you and I'. _And the silence broke for a brief moment.

The awkward uncomfortable silences ebbed after that, and they were finding new silences to enjoy and speak to one another through. These were the silences Hawke enjoyed the most and happily indulged in. Private things only they could understand and only others could fathom guesses at.

The small crooked smile he gave her at any spare moment, _'I love you'_.

A raise of eyebrows as she drew close, trying to talk him into something new or more intimate. Skeptical. Worried. Then his expression would smooth out as her words continued and he would raise a hand to touch her cheek, _'I trust you'_.

He would narrow his eyes every time someone he thought was more than just a bodily harm threat would get too close, say something too sweet. The muscle is his jaw would tighten and he would move closer to her as his gaze would settle squarely on who he found to be competition. Claiming her without word to others, _'She's mine. Put your affections and endearments elsewhere.'_

It was during such a span of time that she learned that even the lyrium under his skin spoke in the silence. He had always despised the marking across his body and even despite the logical points of how they helped him rather than harmed him more often than not. Hawke figured it was more of the memory of pain and the newfound lack of control over them that bothered him most.

Anger was an emotion that Fenris could handle. Rage, resentment, disgust, all these negative emotions could reach any height they wanted to in him and he was fine. When it came to other things…the lyrium betrayed him. When Hawke would manage to disarm him in all ways and he would let his mind let go of everything to just feel what it wanted for her, as much as it wanted. The lyrium, usually fueled by rage and the energy built up being channeled into a death, would react to his spiraling lack of control on what he felt. Not the usual electric blue glow of powerful unleashed energy, but just a soft glow. It had unsettled him at first, but he learned to make peace with it as she had.

Others were very concerned about these things. More than one of her companions had brought up her relationship with the elf who was seemingly so broody and silent. How could she have a relationship with someone who never talked to her, or ignored her unless they were in battle? That only spoke when he was flying off the handle or there was a subject he could add in a wholehearted opinion on, like mages. Hawke would shrug and give them little in way of answer and they would sigh and shake their head, telling her they hoped she knew what she was doing.

She knew exactly what she was doing and that not everything needed to be said. After all, she used them enough herself and knew they usually were meant to cover up something being felt, or to release something that couldn't be contained anymore. They should be more worried if Fenris couldn't shut his mouth at all.

Hawke perfected the art of his body language as more time passed and he seemed to school himself in her own. Maybe he had always done so and she just never noticed, or she did notice and just naturally responded.

Their silences entered another phase…this one less pleasant. She was throwing up a wall and he was trying to desperately climb it, or phase through it, and was finding either method difficult. Being Viscount made her silent in a way that neither of them liked and Fenris responded in kind, not know what words would help.

For a long few months, it felt like they were drifting apart. But despite her dismissing silence he never strayed far. Waiting outside her office all day, walking her home at night, reminding her to take a break from trying to put a broken city back together and eat. The thicker this wall of silence between them got, the more distance formed. They didn't even touch each other and that was proof enough to her that she'd made a mistake in taking this position and was making them both suffer for a cause that didn't deserve it.

He had seemed to come to some like minded conclusion, or perhaps he read it in her own change in silence. Like a change in the wind, barely noticed but there. All she knew was that he had rested a hand on her shoulder…that one gesture saying so much. Making promises, offering solutions, and no matter what he was going to be there.

And here they were now, once more the only company one another had and the fire making the most noise. Hawke had a feeling that he knew that she had been watching him for a long while now and he made proof of that as he ever so slightly turned his face to hers, a single dark brow rising. _'A copper for your thoughts?'_

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth and she shook her head before she shifted closer to him and rested her head against his shoulder. That smile broadened when he shifted himself, dropping his arm to rest around her and leaning his cheek against her temple. She turned her head the slightest bit, her nose bushing his jaw line. _'Long as you're here, everything is fine.' _

His arm tightened around her. Reassuring, comforting. He had probably been thinking as deeply as she had the whole time. _'Always at your side. Forever.'_

As usual the silence said more than words could, so nothing need be said.


	2. Instincts

**A/N: **Well, it's nice to know I don't suck. Thanks for the encouraging review guys 3. In case anyone was wondering, there's no order to these things. If one chapter has a connection to another in some way, I'll make mention of it but I strive to have these all stand alone rather than rely on each other. Knowing fine details is just a bonus for you guys.

**Title:** Instincts

**Summary:** Act 3, post relationship reconcile. Despite the desire to want to be with someone comes the challenge of getting to know their quirks and knee jerk reactions. Hawke happens upon one of Fenris' and the results are not what the elf would like.

**Warnings:** May make a few squeamish with internal organ touching, angst, followed by fluff.

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><p>Instinct. Fenris had lived by this one thing for so many years and it had served him well. The instinct to fight, flee, survive…if not for it he was sure that he would still be Danarius' pet, standing by obediently to be called on for use.<p>

The night had started out simple enough as Hawke and Fenris were happily spending some of their downtime together. A perk of being the Champion of Kirkwall was that Hawke had little need to run errands for coin anymore and it allowed them more time together. She could pick and choose if she wanted to go traipsing into dark spider infested caves and what not.

Dare Fenris think that he was flattered that she chose him over some sort of adventure she could be having, for that was all those kinds of errands had been reduced down to by now. Despite how long they had known each other, it was only now that he felt like they were really getting to know one another. There need be no more secrets and the like.

Of course with growing comfort came growing intimacy. They had agreed however to take things slow this time. Admittedly he was afraid of a repeat of their time together before where things went far too fast from one thing to another and he did not want to make that mistake again. The way things were turning out tonight however….he could never imagined. It had happened in a flash, one blind instinctual flash that had Fenris' horrified.

They had been sitting together, a bottle of wine between them as usual. The wine always brought them closer and soon talking turned to touching. He was starting to get used to it in certain degrees and at the very least that was a pleasing fact. Along with a sort of routine that he found had developed put his mind at ease…he always knew where her hands were going to go.

It figured then, that she would choose to break routine because that was just what Hawke did. Her fingers had been brushing through his hair, the white strands tangling between her fingers as they smoothed through them. It was a feeling he had learned to enjoy…not the usual petting motion he associated with being a reward for being a good slave. She always sought to break that thinking.

Then instead of their usual path the deft digits of his rogue had found the shell of his pointed ears. The first instinct was pleasure. If anything on him could be considered sensitive at all, it would be his ears and his eyes closed at the pleasurable feeling of her sliding her fingers up his ears, hands mirroring one another.

It was a slow journey as her fingers slid up all the way to tapered tips, rounded over them, and then those fingers gave the now downward slope of his ear the same treatment. It was a ghost of a touch, barely there but still intoxicating. Like when she would lovingly caress one of her daggers really.

It made his heart race. Hawke did it again. Once more her fingers slid up, this time with more pressure, and traced over his ears. He thought he heard himself even make a sound to the feeling. A third time her fingers made the journey though they stalled at the tips this time, tugging lightly.

_Knife-ears._ All of a sudden his vision flashed white and his eyes snapped open. He blinked in a daze, confused as he was staring at Hadriana. She had taken great pleasure in the natural sensitivity to his ears, tugging and pulling as she pleased to cause him pain.

"Fenris?"

His brow creased as the voice that came from the woman didn't belong to her and he tried to remind himself that she was dead, but still the muscles in his body drew taut. Something snapped and instinct took over again. The instinct to fight.

The glow of lyrium flashed brightly as he funneled the power into his hand, and as it phased he thrust it forward into the chest of the woman before him to seek out her heart, even if he didn't have his gauntlets on it was still an effective technique. He could still find her heart and squeeze hard enough to kill her and send her back to the dead.

Those hands left his ears as the momentum of the motion pushed her away from him as he bore down with his weight and pressed her into the bed and straddled her to keep her there. She would not get away. With his arm still phased and buried wrist deep he was happy to rise above his quarry with a growl in his throat. He wanted to see that fear clearly etched across her face.

He drew back his power some, letting just his fingertips come out of their phased state. The heart beneath his fingers tips beat strongly and he couldn't help but grin as the slightest pressure he put forward made it struggle and then beat faster. Hopefully in fear.

"F-Fenris." She called his name again, pain laced into her voice as it cracked lightly but not from fear. It was not a pleasant feeling to say the least.

Hawke's voice, not Hadriana's. Fenris paled and he blinked a few times as if trying to clear his vision and then horror struck across his features as reality finally set back in and the fog in his mind cleared. Not Hadriana who was pinned down with her life literally for his taking, but Hawke. His Hawke.

Despite the predicament Hawke found herself in, she gave a weak attempt at a joking tone. "Welcome back." It wasn't the first time he had reverted back to defensive gestures and gotten a far off look like he wasn't there…though nothing entirely serious as this had occurred before.

Instinct struck him again. This time the need to flee but the greater fear of hurting her by moving any fraction of an inch at all kept him rooted in place like a rabbit being stalked by a fox. Maybe if it didn't move, it wouldn't be seen and thus harmed. Something that rarely worked out for the rabbit.

"Hawke…" A tone of 'what do I do?' entered his voice. He was always asking her that it seemed. Usually she had an answer for him.

"I'm right here." She was terrified, though she refused to show him that. Hawke knew that she needed to be strong for the both of them if they were going to get through this particular moment without Fenris feeling the need to keep her at a distance to protect her. She didn't want to be protected from him. He had spent his life as a slave and she had deemed it her personal mission to break him of any of those habits. This was just another trial in the long process.

Fenris closed his eyes, his whole body aware of the feeling of her heart under his fingertips. One move could kill her if he so chose. He couldn't bear to see her look at him like the others he did this too had right before they died. Was he killing her now? He had never thought himself possible of hurting her…and here they were now.

His breathing started to labor under his thoughts and then quickly caught in his throat as warm fingers slid up along his jaw to them rest against his cheek. Despite being in such danger, she sought to soothe him?

"Look at me."

He did as was bade of him, and he forced himself to look at her as she lay underneath him with his hand buried in her chest and the blue glow of lyrium ghosting over them both. Fenris watched as she closed her eyes, taking a breath and he could feel her heart slow a bit and drop from the staccato he had induced.

"You feel that?"

Fenris nodded dumbly, perhaps more off guard by the calm demeanor she had called upon despite how every part of her should be trying to escape him. Rogue tricks, no doubt.

"You're the one person who can touch me there." She was sure that if he wasn't so terrified at the moment he would have snorted and scolded her for what he'd deem a grossly inappropriate joke for what was happening. But Hawke knew what she was doing…if there was any foe she was well practiced in dealing with, it was Fenris. She was smart enough however to fight him on an emotional level in some battles. This was one of them. "In all ways."

Hawke closed her eyes, and reminded her body to keep calm despite the danger. She trusted that Fenris would never hurt her intentionally, even despite how close he was now to killing her with one simple move. "It's beating for you, love. You're the one that keeps it going." It probably sounded cheesy, Hawke sure thought so, but at the same time she knew how her words would hit him as they were quite literal too. Hopefully, she was right.

The implication was clear to him but he remained still all the same. He had done this to countless others…reached into their bodies and found their hearts with expert precision. Sometimes he squeezed till they talked, or squeezed till the life driving organ gave way under his hand. Yet…there were also times when he didn't kill with this action. That's what she trusted him to do now.

Fenris frowned in concentration, directing his power again as he had learned to. He would make sure that he didn't hurt her like this. Only when he felt his hand completely phased once more did he pull his arm back, watching the now ghost like appendage emerge from her body along with a sigh of breath from her.

The glow of lyrium abruptly extinguished as he sat back on his heels where he was straddling her, and he blinked at the smudges of blood that graced just the pads of his now solid fingers. Her blood. The rabbit had broken its stupor and the instinct to flee came rushing back now that he could without hurting her.

Hawke must have known as before he could even move her hand was wrapping around his wrist. That same hold that always told him 'don't go' and he had promised that he never would again when she asked. All the tension seemed to drain from his body at that simple motion and more so as she so easily swiped the blood from his fingers with the edge of her tunic, despite its finery, and erased the evidence of his mistake.

Fenris closed his eyes, and let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding as he leaned forward and rested his ear against her chest over her heart. For a few long quiet moments he listened to the steady rhythm, assuring himself that she was alive and well and that he hadn't hurt her.

He felt her hands slide into his hair again in that comforting motion she used so often, but this time he gently grabbed her wrists and pulled them away. He didn't want to risk her even brushing his ears right now.

"Something I should know? You seemed like you were enjoying that. Then not."

"My ears were used against me." Fenris kept it simple, as when it came to Hawke he usually had to say little to get his point across as she was excellent at reading between the lines. He frowned as his body gave an involuntary shudder at just thinking about it, how Hadriana used to delight in being able to illicit the same guard dropping response in him before twisting and tugging on his ears.

"So I suppose I shouldn't touch then?" A simple nod against her chest was all the answer he gave. Hawke just smiled. "Just one more lock to open to undue any left over chains. In time."

"And if that lock is too strong?"

Hawke gave an un-ladylike snort. "Fenris, there is not a lock that is beyond my skill. Eventually, it gives way."

"You are persistent."

"You can count on that fact." Hawke's first instinct was always to fight for what she wanted most. This was no exception.


	3. That Night Three Years Ago

**A/N: **So I removed the Author's Note chapter because I felt it was distracting you all. And then no reviews on my last chapter wasn't encouraging, I don't know whether people just didn't care for it or what but the darker themes will show up again in other chapters. Either way, I continue on.

**Title: **That Night Three Years Ago

**Summary: **A take of the first night Hawke and Fenris spent together.

**Warnings: **Not happy fluff fluff that is usually expected and written. Sorry my friends, but that never made sense to me. Fenris is far too guarded. Still insightful though. Sex, lust, angst, clothes in the way.

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><p>"You don't need to leave, Fenris."<p>

Her words combined with her touch were his undoing. He reacted; lyrium ignited brightly as he grabbed hold of her at her sudden touch and pushed her into the nearest wall. Fenris wasn't sure what he meant to do…hurt her? His instinctual anger fled like birds startled from a window sill at the thought of doing so and his expression fell as he loosed his hold on her and started to back away as he made to flee.

He didn't get even a step as she pushed off the wall and caught him by his biceps. Nor did he get the chance to protest as her lips were then on his in a heated kiss that all too easily called to something deep inside him and disarmed him. The chance to do anything but enjoy was taken from him as well as she suddenly turned and pushed him against the wall, her mouth continuing to ravage his.

Though at the same time he noted - how he was able to still make mental notes he wasn't sure – that she propped her hands on either side of his head on the wall. Both trapping him but not holding him where he was and allowing him an escape. He was the one who was keeping himself close as his arms had all too easily twined around her waist to keep her close. All the pent up feelings in his heart he had for this woman guided him more than any sense of logic in his mind. She wanted him. That much was clear.

Fenris wasn't sure how they ended up in her room, or who led the way up there, or if this was even a good idea. All he knew was that he _needed_ this woman in a way that nothing else could compare. Needed her more than food, breath…freedom even. Hawke had become someone special to him over the last four years of knowing her and while he wasn't sure exactly what it was he was feeling, he just knew that he needed her like nothing else in all of Thedas.

Needed to be close, vulnerable. Needed to see those things that she only showed him when they were alone. He needed the trust that she offered him now as they were so close and all her guards were down. After all, he was still clad in sharp armor and they both knew he was deadly even without a blade. Frankly he expected her to carry a dagger on her, even when she was home. It was surprising that she didn't, or his roaming hands had just missed it somehow but they had yet to happen upon a weapon.

"Armor." His keen ears heard her mumble against his lips and then her fingers were seeking out buckles. She had never touched his armor to do such a thing, nor seen him take it off but her fingers seemed to know exactly what to do and where to go. Perhaps it meant that she had been watching him just as closely as he had been watching her, taking in every detail.

Pieces of metal easily come away from his body, leaving him in the light leather that fit like a second skin that he wore underneath. There were few moments in his life he spent out of his armor, he even slept in it most nights and he expected to feel ill at ease over its loss. Maybe he had always exaggerated how he'd feel being around another without armor, or maybe it was just Hawke. She always had the ability to make him feel safe…whenever she was around he knew that at least one person was watching his back.

An ease had come over his mind at the knowledge and he felt himself relax some. He wanted to be happy. No. Not wanted. It was another thing he _needed_. Needed if from _her_. The woman who kept telling him that instead of just waiting for his revenge to come and get him that in the meantime he should enjoy his hard earned freedoms. Find things that made him happy. Hawke made him happy. Out of all the simple pleasures he found he could still enjoy, nothing compared to her.

And yet, as her dexterous fingers now tugged at what was left of his clothing…he felt the unease come back. The urge to flee. No. He would not flee. Not from her. But he needed control…he couldn't let go completely of it. Not yet.

He was taking charge now, a sudden flare rising in his chest to protect himself and his secrets, whatever it was of himself that was his and what he could claim as his own and refused to give to anyone else. Even her. She said she could understand, but she really knew nothing.

Fenris eased the woman in his arms down to the softness of the mattress as he slid a knee between her thighs and against the warmth between them as her skirt easily yielded to the motion. She moaned and it was like music to his ears but he maintained his almost clinical control of the situation. At least for now.

He started to peel her out of her clothes, only letting her rise from the bed long enough to slip the garments completely from her body until she was bare before him. She was not granted the same pleasure of undressing him. His armor already gone, his arms were left bare but that would be all that would be as so for the night. Even as she reached for the fastenings of his jerkin once more he grabbed both of her wrists in one of his own hands and pinned them above her head to keep her from trying to get him out of his clothing. She didn't fight him on it and he didn't care to dissect the reason as to why not.

Under the blatant lust and desire he was feeling, there was still shame and fear. Maybe she'd be disgusted by the lyrium scars that swirled out across his body, maybe she'd be frightened by the glow of that lyrium that was happening even now with his rising state of emotions. It was a soft glow, but still he felt better with the majority of his markings being covered and dimmed by his clothing. After all, from his behavior they both knew that glowing usually meant someone was about to die. He didn't want her to think about such things. Not at this moment. The light from the fire helped muddle his self produced light at the very least.

Fenris wasn't even sure if he had ever done this before, or rather done this before with it not being forced on him, but that didn't stop him from simply doing what felt _right_. He refused to think of what experiences Hadriana granted him in this way.

It felt right to nip at her bottom lip gently before he pressed trailing kisses to her throat and he marveled at how she eagerly leaned her head back, exposing the weak point to him without fear of him exploiting it in less pleasurable ways.

It was no wonder this woman got to him on so many levels and that such discoveries about her never ceased. His pointed ears twitched then as he heard her say his name and he marveled at the sound of it in the breathy tone she was using…a tone he'd never heard from her before at all. Both exciting and terrifying. Never the less it urged him on and she wasn't protesting.

His free hand traveled then, brushing over her soft skin, noting everything about it in his mind to savor for another time. Every now and then his fingers would wander over a marred patch of flesh, scars his mind noted, but even those seemed to fit her perfect. For Hawke was by no means the picture that most people painted of perfection…it did seem that she fit his own definition however.

Despite the scars, there was still something so drawing and enthralling about her skin as it lacked the markings that formed intricate patterns on his skin. For some reason it was a comfort that she lacked such things, that he knew she had perhaps never felt the pain that he knew and couldn't forget. He would never wish such understanding on her.

He let her hands go and she reached for him almost immediately, drawing him closer and twisting her fingers into the fabric on his body but didn't try to remove it again. Seemed she did understand in some capacity but that didn't deter her. She wanted him close and she smiled as his weight settled on her some more rather than the controlled distance he wanted. He granted her request by letting his body stretch out against the length of hers, and he exhaled against her skin as he felt her twine her leg around his calf.

"Fenris…" His name came again in a whisper as he nibbled at her throat, his tongue dipping into the hollow before trailing kisses continued and his hands were insistent on learning her body in this new way. Hawke gave a whimper of a sound as one hand first skimmed over and then settled on her breast, the flesh almost instantly swelling to try and get more contact.

Maker, how long had it been since a man touched her like this? And this just wasn't any man, this was Fenris…a man she found herself hopelessly in love with but having to sit on her hands when it came to the emotion as she tried to gently guide him in how to live as a free man did. She would wait for him though and it looked like it was paying off now in some capacity. Maybe the Maker did answer prayers after all.

Fenris felt a rather possessive yet soft growl rumble deep from his chest, the noise stirred as she had shifted her body and parted her thighs. His body slipped into the cradle of her thighs with the motion and he couldn't help but press his hips against hers in clear intention and letting her feel the evidence of his desire for her with the motion. If it wasn't clear before, it was clear now…she wanted him and he wanted to take what she was offering.

For the first time, he spoke her given name rather than her surname. It was something he didn't use regularly…mostly because she didn't. She always introduced herself as Hawke, always answered to Hawke. Only her mother and sister had ever used her given name, that perhaps being the only reason he or any of their companions even knew it. Whatever the facts behind it…it felt right rolling off his tongue at this moment. She seemed to enjoy it as well from the way she looked at him with a sultry smile playing across her lips.

He gave in to the desire and lust he was feeling, this need to be happy and knowing that she would make him so. There was still the barest sense of care for the situation left and one hand skimmed down her body and disappeared between them, searching. Hawke gave another moan and arched off the bed and into him when his seeking fingers found her, making sure she was ready for him. He would not allow himself to hurt her like this in haste. It was more than clear to him however that she was ready.

His hands left her then and ventured to his own clothes, deft fingers easily loosed the front of his leggings to free himself from the confines of the leather and letting the material slip off his hips just enough to allow him what movement he needed for the task at hand. There was no need to risk too much exposure and break the moment from worries that could creep up from the back of his mind.

Either Hawke was too gone in the moment to care, didn't notice, or understood because she didn't say a word about it. She just invitingly pulled at him with her hands clutched to the back of his jerkin and the leg already wrapped around his own.

Fenris wasn't sure he had ever really comprehended what freedom meant until his body was sliding into hers and joining them in the oldest dance in all of time. This…this was freedom. The freedom he so desperately needed. Just being with Hawke like this was freeing in a way he couldn't understand or fathom. Hearing her call his name in yet another new way his lips found hers again in a nipping kiss as he wasted no time in exploring this new sense of freedom.

Easily they found a pace together. His hips met hers in quick motions fueled by both lust and need but still steady full strokes of her body with his own. This delightful friction of his new found kind of freedom was dizzying and just…perfect. Never before had he felt so trapped but so free as the body of the woman in his arms urged on and invited his own. They way her arms encircled his shoulders and her fingers buried into his clothing to keep him close as she pressed against him.

Even the soft noises she made were intoxicating as he'd never heard such sounds from Hawke before. Sounds of her effort in battle, her laughter, snickers, annoyed sighs and taunting charm, they all couldn't compare to this. The soft breathy moans, the hitch in her breath from her panting and pleasure, and again his name coming out in all sorts of ways.

Watching her writhe both with him and underneath him, hearing her, just being here with her at this moment…brought all of his guards crashing down. Carefully constructed walls were no challenge as passion built between them, and he could feel it coiled tight in the pit of his stomach, urging him to increase their pace.

He closed his eyes despite how he wanted to watch her as those walls crumbled and fell, and revealed things that were both foreign and familiar in his mind. Fenris threw his head back, both in pleasure and from the jolt of images and information that flooded through his mind. Hawke's calling of his name brought him back to the present before another flash of images took hold. He felt hopeless against the onslaught of sensations his mind and his body were going through.

Another gasp from Hawke, her hands twisting tighter into his clothing as his thrusting became harder and faster. Hands that had been roaming whatever patch of skin they could reach had come to her hips to raise them the slightest bit and hold tight for leverage against his movements. He growled, again not sure whether from pleasure or yet another flash of images through his head, this time voices mixed in with that of Hawke's.

Was the freedom he found with her like this that powerful? Powerful enough to break down walls that blocked what he had once forgotten? All his questions finally answered at last and his past would no longer be a mystery and he wouldn't have just the painful memories of slavery. There had to be more to his life than that. Before lyrium, Danarius, and Hadriana.

Then just as fast as it had all come and stuck in his mind…it was fading away. No! It was all just drained away so fast from his memory and he mentally grasped desperately at the dissolving imagines, the voices that faded to whispers before silence. Outwardly his body sought to gain them back, trying to find that freedom that Hawke induced…but it seemed out of reach and then everything was gone, leaving him once again with only what he knew since the burn of lyrium under his skin.

Hawke called his name again, loudly and tinted with a moan, her body going rigid and tensed against his before it clutched at him tighter. Lustful instinct kept him going despite his mind being dazed and he gave a few more thrusts before his body's resolve broke and he held tight to her at the pleasurable feeling of that tight coil inside him snapping and emptying the tension from his body. It left him feeling weak and boneless and he couldn't help but let his weight sag, and he rested on his forearms above her as he tried to get his breathing under control.

He should be feeling so different….prideful and content in the act of claiming Hawke as his own, of her accepting such a fact. Instead all he felt was a cold emptiness that was left behind from gaining and then losing his past. Luckily the physical exertion masked it and he rested his cheek against her shoulder, and breathed in her scent to try and calm himself some.

Fenris closed his eyes as he felt her nuzzle against his hair lightly, whispering a few nonsensical noises along with his name. What had he just done? Something that could have been so beautiful and special…had been ruined by his past. No. By himself. His inability to remember anything before searing pain and servitude. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

After a few moments his arms found enough strength to support himself better and he gave a disappointed noise at the feeling of when his body left Hawke's. She took her particular brand of freedom with her and he felt enslaved all over again. Even as she pulled him down to rest beside her on the bed, his mind was elsewhere in someplace painful and isolated. So close to her and he felt so alone with the come and go of his memories.

Distant eyes turned to look at Hawke, who only returned the look with a much more pleased and loving one. Was this how it would be between them? Would he always find and lose his life and his freedom with her in moments like this? He couldn't let that happen…it was wrong. She deserved him to be here in all aspects…not far away trying to grasp at memories and using her as a catalyst.

He watched her lips move, but his ears didn't hear her voice and his mind couldn't make out the words from how her lips moved. It was probably something that he would have cherished to hear. Instead he mutely watched her as she settled and soon fell asleep. There would be no sleep for him and as soon as he was sure she wouldn't stir he left the bed.

Fenris had been watching her for hours now as she slept soundly with a smile across her face and looking utterly pleased and sated. He wanted to stay…but he wasn't sure he could face her when she woke. What he would tell her? His own mind was a muddle, once again being grasped by his past and it was dragging him away from what could possibly be his future. And this time…it felt like he couldn't fight it. Everything he had gained, all the strides he had made…it felt like it was all slipping away from him. His past was threatening to overshadow everything.

He didn't want her to become lost in all of that, or get caught up in a way that she didn't need to be. She was already doing enough as it was, helping him as she had. Moving back to the bed he brushed her hair away from her face and sighed. He couldn't do this…couldn't lose her like this because of his own cowardice. Though he wanted her for himself and to just be blissfully oblivious to the tiger at his back…he just couldn't.

He moved to the armoire in her room and opened it. Inside he found her current set of armor and her daggers neatly stashed there. He grabbed her current favorite dagger from its holder on the back of the armoire door, and started to untie the red piece of cloth that Hawke had wrapped around the handle to mark it as hers among others if she ever lost it during a fight in some manner.

Fenris replaced the dagger and closed the armoire before he stared at the red cloth now in hand. Yes, it reminded him of Hawke in many ways. Not only just remembering it wrapped around her dagger, but it was her favored color, was bright and brash like she was, and it even smelled like her. Quickly he wound the cloth around his wrist and tied it securely. He would remember her and the promise he was making…once this was over with Danarius then and only then could he go after what he wanted. Until then? It was best she stay away in this manner least so that he wouldn't give into the urge to use her just for answers only he could grasp in his head.

For another time he turned to watch the fire crackle in the hearth, and leaned on his forearm against the mantle. He knew he should go, but he wasn't ready to let go just yet and Hawke was a deep sleeper…usually when she went to sleep, she stayed so until morning.

"Was it that bad?" His touch had prompted her hand to go seeking him beside her in the bed and when she didn't find him, it had brought her sharply to wakefulness. Hawke tried not to let it show that she wasn't sure what to make of him out of bed and fully dressed all the way back to armor again. Though she was sure it wasn't good.

Apparently he was wrong about her sleeping habits tonight. "I'm sorry, it's not…it was fine." Fine? Fine was not the word at all. Despite the dark side of the situation, that was. "No. that is insufficient. It was better than anything I could have dreamed."

He said sweet things, but his tone and his posture said that something was bothering him. "Your markings…they hurt, don't they?" Shot in the dark but plausible. He had mentioned his aversion to touch before and she hadn't been able to even get him out of his clothes fully…but she could work on that.

"It's not that." Maybe telling her was best…Hawke understood most things. "I began to remember. My life before. Just flashes…" Yes, just tell her. Put it off as a simple dismissal. Perhaps her being angry at him was best and easiest. "It's too much. This is too fast. I cannot…do this."

"We can work through this." She knew that his unresolved past bothered him and she told him time and time again to not let it hold him back from life as it did. That she would help him in any way that he asked. Yet he was letting it tug once more at chains he still wore but refused to see.

"I'm sorry. I feel like such a fool." He was sure she knew why too. "All I wanted was to be happy…just for a little while. Forgive me." He couldn't even bear to look at her as he turned then and walked away from her. She didn't try to stop him.

Fenris didn't pause in his steps until he was safely behind his own dilapidated estate's walls. There his cool demeanor to everything dropped and his hands gripped at his hair in frustration as he growled. He would give her no less than a free man and until all of this was over…he couldn't do this. Whatever this was supposed to be between them. Even now he felt as if she was still holding onto his wrist, not wanting him to go. Still he couldn't get the burning feeling of her out of his mind.

He blinked, as he tried to clear his vision of still lingering images of her only to notice the bright spot of color around his wrist. He dropped his hand, and his eyes rested on the red band of cloth that was tied securely around his wrist…that's why it felt like she was still holding him. Even though she suddenly felt so far away from him, she was still right there at his side in some fashion. His opposite hand rested against the fabric, and gripped desperately as if it was the only think anchoring him to the world.

If only he were truly free…


	4. Reprieve

**A/N: **I'm going to start counting favorites/alerts as reviews. It'll make my fragile ego feel better. Thank you to everyone who's reviewed so far, it's been a big confidence boost and keeps me motivated.

**Title: **Reprieve

**Summary: **The "real" reason for it taking three years for Hawke and Fenris to reconcile their relationship. Or at the very least, a fathomable excuse other than "you never wanted to talk about it", pfft.

**Warnings: **Arishok encounter, brutalized and battered Hawke, Angsty/rage filled/emo Fenris, meddling Varric, plot-hole filling.

* * *

><p>It had to be undignified, the way this was going. Because going up against a creature that was a good two times her size in every dimension was not going well. Especially for a rogue. She was running and dodging more than anything, being kept at a constant moving pace as the Arishok was relentless in his pursuit to grind her into a fine pulp. Her own size and speed at least let her the ability to duck under heavily swung blades, not that it prevented her from catching a few that sent her stumbling and scrambling to regain her feet before another blade came down and she was opportunistically striking when she could. Daggers were like toothpicks on this one.<p>

For the first time in a long time, she was worried as her mortality screamed at her. A blade swung to the side and she tried to move with it to avoid a blow, only to feel it bite painfully into her side as she slid backward and away from it, a trail of blood following. Running in circles and waiting for an opportunity wasn't going to cut it much longer. Time to stand and fight or run and die. Those were the options, might as well pick one. She solidified her resolve and came back at the qunari with renewed vigor.

Hawke gave a yelp as the qunari's hand closed around her ankle, yanking her mid air right out of a back flip and then hurtled her downward, the ground coming up quickly to meet her in a sickening crack of her head against it as greeting. For a moment her world flashed white and the hazy vision of Carver was in her head, being tossed around much the same, then her world came sharply back into focus.

Weightlessness again as the Arishok was now flung her upward and using her own momentum she forced herself to turn in his hold, twisting her ankle and feeling the bones crack there as she reached out and grabbed the qunari's horn, preventing him from slamming her back down again. It also gave her just enough time to grab the one dagger that remained on her person and slam it into the Arishok's throat to the hilt and twist, closing her eyes at the spray of blood across her face and then giving a groan as they both went down, she rolled out of his grasp. She tried to ignore the pain that shot through her leg and gain her feet once more, and brought her dagger up defensively again, she expected him to be up and on her quickly…but this time he stayed down. Much to the disbelief of everyone it seemed.

There was silence and then there was applause. Hawke stood there breathing heavily, and clutched at the gash in her side as it was still sinking in what just happened…not that she had much time to think about it as her eyelids fluttered and she was either going to get sick or pass out. Meredith was there, saying something but she couldn't hear the words. In fact her only reaction was her dagger falling limply from her hand before darkness closed in on her and she collapsed to the floor.

Fenris was first to reach her before even Anders and his healing magic. He was blissfully unaware of the mage opposite of him on the other side of Hawke and tending to her wounds with magic as his own fingers sough out signs of life from her. The pool of blood under her was growing at an alarming rate and he snarled at Anders as he then became an important tool. "Faster! She's going to bleed to death!" The thought of losing her terrified him.

He didn't even care for the words thrown back at him as he turned his eyes back down to Hawke and her paling face. His eyes stayed glued there, watching her gasp short breaths as the glow of magic washed over her. Eventually the pool stopped growing and her breathing steadied some. Now if only she'd open her eyes.

A hand on his shoulder startled him where he was kneeling in her blood at her side and he turned a look over his shoulder to see Aveline watching him with a concerned expression.

"Meredith has offered a room here in the Keep, and Orsino his healing. Let them help."

For some reason, he felt powerless as Meredith had stepped forward and scooped up a bloodied and still limp Hawke, leaving him and a slumped and exhausted Anders where they were as she made off with the new Champion of Kirkwall with Orsino in tow. When he finally felt un-rooted from his spot and started up, Aveline's hand stopped him and he gave her a rare panicked look.

"She'll live." That was all the words she gave him in the way of comfort before she turned her attention to Anders. The words did not make him feel better.

For three days her eyes remained closed and every day and night one of her companions kept company with her, despite her lack of consciousness. Sometimes they all gathered together, or in pairs. Whatever time one could spare was spent watching over their companion and friend.

Fenris was the only one who would see her alone. At times he would accept Varric being there but the ever observant dwarf would often excuse himself feigning hunger, or he'd ask Fenris to take his watch so he could take a nap. They both knew the dwarf wasn't tired.

Another three days and in the dead of night, Fenris was taking his visit with her, again on Varric's shift and he had excused himself by citing a much needed visit to the privy.

The elf sat on the edge of the bed she was resting in and watched her for a long moment. Then he was pulling back covers to inspect injuries…any spark of pleasure that could have been taken from her nudity under the covers was drowned out by the marks of brutality over her skin, despite the passed time. How she was alive really was a wonder. Magic may have healed her some, but it did nothing for the bruising and other evidences of her endeavor. Even the wound at her side had been stitched for further reinforcement rather than completely tacked together with magic. A deep wound then, one no one wanted to risk quick healing on, just in case. Fenris had avoided checking said injuries for the sheer purpose of the unsettled feeling he had right now. They spoke loudly that she could have died and the thought of loosing her…again he couldn't bear to envision the scenario.

"She woke up earlier today…she called for you." Varric's voice startled the elf, who was making a show of covering Hawke back up and smoothing the blankets as he tried to not let his lack of composure show on his face. Varric was smarter than that however and saw the cracks in the elf's façade.

He sighed. "Elf…it's alright to be upset. I know what happened between you two." That made the elf's back tense, he observed, and a wary look got passed his way. "Despite her being who she is, Hawke is still a woman underneath it all. Women need to cry sometimes. I'm very good at listening and keeping secrets when asked by dear friends."

Fenris' eyes narrowed…she cried? Hawke did not cry. He expected her to be angry, to hate him, to want to throw things at him. But to cry? It confused him and now his confusion was playing on his face as he regarded Varric. "Then you know I have no right to even be here." It was selfish of him, but he had to make sure she wasn't dead.

"She called your name. You're who she wanted to see, that gives you more than enough right." Varric was one of those people who had learned to deal with the elf's standoffish nature…and to just keep talking at him even when he didn't seem to be listening. "Look, I know you have a lot on your plate with this whole revenge thing, and that letting yourself get distracted and what not is a bad thing. But still…you shouldn't let a good thing go just because it scares the piss out of you."

Now he was annoyed and he growled lightly. Hawke was not a distraction. She was more than that to him. His eyes moved down to the red band of cloth at his wrist, then over to Hawke, then back to Varric. "She deserves better than me. Someone who can give her what she needs."

Varric gave a boisterous short bark of laughter, and shook his head. "Dear elf, you and I both know Hawke better than that. Her own opinion is the one she cares about and she'll decide what is best for her. Even if it's a broody elf with mage issues. If it makes you feel better, she blames herself."

That got a hard look. "She shouldn't. She did nothing wrong."

"Well she does. It's written all right here." Holding up the red leather bound journal that was his own and yet chronicled everything he knew about Hawke. They had long conversations and he filled the pages with whatever it was she had to tell or what he thought of her or her actions. Helped keep his embellishments straight as well when he retold grandiose stories of her. "Would you like to read it?"

"The things she tells you in confidence should be kept as such." That statement didn't stop Varric from making a show of opening it and flipping a few pages.

"Ah yes, all right here…along with a lovely drawing of you in profile. Should I read it aloud? After all, I do have a fine narrating voice."

"I need to go." The elf stated briskly and then he was getting up and heading for the door, Varric clearing his throat stopped him. Why exactly he wasn't sure.

"You can't run from everything Elf. Some things are better to run towards." He didn't get an answer, save the sound of the elf exiting the room and closing the door. Varric shook his head before closing the tome, and moved back over to the bed Hawke was in, smoothing her hair away from her bruised face. "I hope you know what you're doing Hawke…it kills me to see your heart breaking." That said he pressed a careful affectionate kiss to her cheek and resumed his post in the chair by the bed.

It was another week before Hawke was lucid and able to at the very least sit up by herself. That didn't mean however she was out of the woods. There were…gaps in her memory it seemed. Some things were lost, some were fuzzy. Her companions found it necessary to quiz her on things to establish what was there and what wasn't. What she was missing, they were happy to recount for her and more often than not the memory easily came back in full. She just needed some reminding.

With Varric keeping her company for the night she had silently been staring at the ceiling most of the night. "You've barely eaten Hawke. Need to get your strength back up. People want to see the Champion up and about, probably have a whole list of parties to go to. Oh and gifts. Everyone loves to send a gift to the savior." He frowned when she didn't join in at his teasing. She was known to laugh at herself easily. "Where's your head Hawke? You didn't leave it on the Viscount's throne room floor did you?"

She let out a breath and turned to face him then. "How's Fenris?"

Ah, he was wondering when the elf was going to come up. After all, despite what apparent rift that Varric knew was between them it wouldn't be in the elf's nature to not make sure she was alright. He had every other time before she found herself laid up for some reason. Almost dying was a greater reason to visit rather than a broken arm or cold. "He's…concerned. He's come to check on you a few times, but you've never been awake and you need your rest so no one wanted to wake you."

"Please don't spare my feelings, you know why I'm asking." There was no humor in her voice.

He sighed and shook his head. "Alright. He's terrified. I'm not sure what's going on between those pointy ears of his but it's not good. We…talked a bit about the two of you."

"You what? Varric what happened to you keeping a secret?"

"Well…technically it's not a secret to him since he's involved, and I felt it was important. You two are more stubborn than two dwarves fighting over a copper with legalities rather than fists. I couldn't stand the way he was looking at you with those big elf eyes looking all weepy. Weepy does not suit him well at all. I prefer him broody."

"What did he say?"

"That you deserve better than him." Hawke's perplexed look made him shrug his shoulders, not having any further answer for her. He shook his head. "Out of all the things you remember. You can't remember Isabela causing you more trouble than you needed or half of the Expedition, all the good parts mind you, but you remember one night out of a million because of a broody elf. Either you're a secret romantic or he was just that good in bed."

To which Hawke couldn't help but laugh lightly, making Varric smile as well before she shook her head. "No, I'm not telling you how he is in bed. If anything he wouldn't appreciate that at all. He's barely been able to look at me since then. I'm sure that night is one of the things that he wished I did forget. Maybe then he'd feel okay again." She blinked as an idea slunk into her head then. "Varric…you're a good enough friend to know when to let some things be left in the dark right?"

"Yes, I like to think so. What are you getting at? You have that look."

"And you're such a good friend of mine…that if I forgot something that you knew made me so upset, you would keep it from me rather than bringing it up and making me remember like it was fresh, right?"

"I hope I'm not right about where you're going with this…but yes. If only it were up to me…this whole thing with you and the elf would turn out right. I'd simply wave my hand and make your dreams come true Hawke."

"Then you'll do me a favor, because you're my trusty dwarf."

Varric was not sure he agreed with Hawke's plan…but he would do what she asked. Maybe it would help her too…or at least he was sure she thought so. He wasn't. But a good story needed tragedy in some capacity. So that was why he was opening the always unlocked door of Fenris' borrowed estate…and gave a short prayer to whatever powers that be that were listening that he didn't get his head cleaved from his shoulders by a paranoid elf wielding a very large sword.

He made it past the foyer with his head still on his shoulders, so he considered himself lucky. Then unlucky as the toes of his boot met with one of the decaying corpses that the elf kept around for decoration. "Why me?" He sighed and made his way up the stairs to the one livable room left in the place. "Elf? Are you here?"

Still nothing greeted him but that probably wasn't surprising. Indeed Fenris was in his room, the elf sat before a slowly dying fire in the hearth in front of him and he looked to be concentrating very hard. "I don't think brooding at it hard enough will stoke it any. Needs more wood by the looks of it."

Fenris only sighed and straightened his back to be sitting up in the chair rather than brooding and hunched forward. "Is there something I can do for you, dwarf?"

"I come bearing gifts!" His tone was purposefully overly cheerful but it still didn't get a reaction save the raise of one skeptical black elven brow. Varric sighed and pouted as if someone had scratched Bianca. "You'll like this one, I promise." That said he held out a few folded pages with writing, and one drawn profile to Fenris.

Fenris' eyes flicked from Varric to the papers and then back again. "What are those?"

"Pages, clearly." Once again the elf didn't rise to his bait and he continued on a more serious note after a sigh. He was doing this for Hawke, and that was the only reason. "You know that we've been trying to make sure Hawke has all her pieces together and well…I remembered our talk. It turns out…she doesn't remember that night that you two had together." Which was a blatant lie but…well Varric would do anything for his friend, even if it meant editing and she knew he hated to do that.

Now the elf gave him a surprised look. "She doesn't remember…that night?"

"Seems not. She remembers going to the slaver caverns and that you left angry and that she worried because she didn't know where you'd gone. The next thing she remembers about you is you being broody but around again." He waved the pages in his hand a little as he glossed over details, encouraging the other man to take them.

"I'll be honest…when I was told about this whole…sordid romance affair between you two or whatever you want to call it…I wanted to hurt you. Because she was hurt. Not because you just up and left her, but because she couldn't stop you. Because she thinks she's not enough for you, not something that is more worthy of your life than your petty revenge. I did not like that hurt look and I did not like to see her heart breaking. So…I decided not to remind her and I pulled out the pages that I wrote on such things so she can't read about them later. Take them."

That knowledge only served in making Fenris feel worse and even more confused. Out of all people, how could Hawke think the same exact thought as him? Of not being worthy for the other? She was too good for him and more than enough, not to opposite. Dumbfounded now he reached out and took the papers, smoothing them out on his thigh to look over the dwarf's smooth penmanship.

"You've gotten what you wanted elf. She doesn't remember, and you're free of any guilt for how you treated her." He held up a finger, as he usually did when he was about to give advice. "Just because she doesn't remember that night doesn't mean she's forgotten everything she feels for you. Do with that knowledge what you will…but if you hurt her again, Bianca and I will be paying a visit this time." That said, the dwarf turned on his boot heel to leave and report back to Hawke.

Fenris closed his eyes and frowned, remaining silent as he listened to Varric leave. Yes…it seemed he had gotten what he wanted. Was it a second chance for him to not hurt her like that again, or was it a sign that he should leave well enough alone? He really didn't deserve her, was a coward for not being able to deal with what he felt. Memories and his past were ruling his life…it was a sad fact but it was indeed a fact.

Did that mean that he would have to turn away her advances now too? The flirting he secretly loved so much on the long nights they sat together talking or sitting in silence with one another? The caring gestures she took with him despite how he never asked? It would hurt her if he turned aside all those things. No matter his options he seemed to always end up hurting her. That was why she deserved better. But he wanted her for himself regardless. He was hopeless. Fenris rose from his chair and moved closer to the fire, taking a final look at the pages before he tossed them into the embers that greedily consumed the dry parchment.

Hawke was up and pacing her temporary room in the Viscount's Keep. It felt good to move in general but the pacing was helping with her mind at the moment as well. Would Fenris believe Varric? Was she doing the right thing? He had just felt so distant from her…and she would rather have him close in some capacity than trying to get as far away from her as possible because of one night of lust. Or at least she was going to convince herself it was just lust and that things had gotten out of hand. It was better this way.

Her pacing stopped abruptly as Varric came into the room, and shut the door with a sigh. "Well?"

"He didn't say much, but I think he went for it. We'll just have to wait and see." Now came the part where he meddled more, just as he did with Fenris. "The point remains that you do remember, even if you're going to pretend you don't. I told him that he shouldn't let a good thing slip through his fingers and I'm telling you that now. Just…try not to get yourself hurt. I can't stand to see you upset. It breaks my heart and then Bianca gets jealous and you know how it goes from there."

Leaning down she hugged the dwarf tightly. "Thank you Varric, I can always count on you. Even if you don't approve. Maybe…I can do things right this time by him."

"Maybe he'll do right by you, more importantly. Only time will tell Hawke. As I've heard it heals all wounds. I sure hope that's true, for both of your sakes."

"Me too…"


	5. Nobility

**A/N:** Shout out to my reviewers! There may not be many of you but you keep me going! Luffles!

**Title:** Nobility

**Summary:** Leandra is insistent on finding Hawke a suitable husband now that the family has moved up in the world, and elves don't count. Hawke goes along with it only to please her mother but has eyes only for Fenris. Fenris disapproves +25 on the situation. Act 2, post questioning beliefs, pre-relationship.

**Warnings:** Fluffy! Originality based on a single line of dialog in game? Not much to warn over in this one save a Thedas based racial slur.

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><p>"What was that Mother?" Hawke looked up from polishing her daggers and blinked at the look her mother was giving her. That 'you listen when I talk to you' one that she got more often than her younger siblings did. Her head was in the clouds too much, Leandra often said.<p>

"Seneschal Bran's son. Remember how I told you that Seneschal Bran has a son about your age?"

"Yes, I remember." She also remembered how it had to do with her mother's ideals that Hawke needed to get to the marrying and baby making parts of her life. Hawke heartily disagreed with the notion. She wasn't ready to settle down…and besides, her interests were not found in snobby human nobles. Her tastes, she had found, ran more towards pointy ears and brooding nature.

"Well, I've arranged a date for you two. Unaccompanied and everything as I know you're a woman now and you know how to take care of yourself and how to say 'no' when you really need to. Like the advances of overeager young men in certain ways."

"Oh you mean say no if he wants to toss me against the nearest piece of furniture and have his way with me in exchange for advancing my position or something in the nobility?" Her tone was light and airy, clearly a mix of her usual sarcasm and humor…why her mother never came out and said anything on such topics, Hawke never knew. Maybe it was the old nobility in her?

Leandra was clearly not amused and she gave her daughter a flat look for a long moment before her child gave a sheepish look of apology. The power of being a mother never got old. Satisfied with her daughter's silent apology she continued. "Yes. I suppose that is what I mean. Either way, I have something for you to wear and we'll make a day of it. We are nobility now, we should enjoy it. You don't have to go running around all day getting all scratched up and dirty."

"But Mother…" Her tone was purposefully whiny, as she tried to antagonize her mother just a little bit in retaliation for doing quite a bit behind her back. "I like running around…you never had a problem with it in Lothering. Besides…I don't even like Bran, what makes you think I'll like his son any more than his father?" Hawke was going to talk her way out of this, that was all there was to it.

"You had no future in Lothering, just a farm to inherit or a general to marry in that silly army you joined. But here, I want you to have the best that can be offered. Our family deserves it, you deserve it. You should be able to settle down, have a family, not worry about anything else for the rest of your life. To be happy and cared for."

Hawke bit her tongue to keep from saying a remark that she knew would probably cut far too deep for her mother. This coming from the woman who ran away from home and married an apostate, really? All of that was nice yes, but it was boring. Hawke didn't want to sit around doting and waiting on a husband to do everything and command all. Nor did she want to sit with babies on her hip all day. "Mother…I am happy and I can take care of myself."

"But you don't need to. Darling, can't you at least give it a try? Please? Just once?"

Oh no, there was that look. The mother look that said 'why don't you just stab me through the heart now and spare me the pain if you're going to try and break it by not doing what I ask'. Hawke had never been able to resist that look and she gave a heavy sigh. "Alright, I'll go on this little date you arranged and cancel my own plans for tomorrow. Just this one time."

Hawke could have sworn her mother squealed and jumped for joy, or maybe that was her imagination as the woman walked off, babbling to herself about all the things she would need to get all prettied up and rub elbows with nobles. Hawke sighed and looked to her mabari that lay by her feet. "The things we do for mothers, hm?"

The mabari merely gave a heavy huff.

Hawke should have known better that her 'one time' stand wasn't going to last. Sure, she let her mother dress her up and then went and enjoyed some free food with the Seneschal's son. He wasn't very good company, but why turn down a free meal. It was supposed to end there…but it seemed Leandra wasn't done meddling. Next thing Hawke knew there were weekly engagements with young men or an invitation to a fancy noble party.

She was not enjoying it. The novelty of free food and what not was wearing off…she missed the running around getting dirty and then getting drunk in the dirty Hanged Man afterwards. Her companions hadn't missed the change either. Often she was canceling plans on them and disappearing…she personally didn't want them to see her playing it up with the nobles to please her mother. Hawke just prayed this whole phase her mother was going through would end…after all, Hawke was pretty sure she had offended every young noble just enough to make them not want her around.

Fenris wasn't sure how he had gotten talked into this…all he did know was that he was the one doing it. Everyone wanted to know where Hawke was and what was preoccupying her time. He squatted in Hightown and apparently that made him the best candidate to keep tabs on her when she slipped away from them for days on end.

A majority vote in Varric's room at the hanged man sealed his fate on the matter…though he had to admit that he was curious as well. Especially since there had been a decrease in the alone time they had together. Where she used to come over to his run down place almost every evening for one thing or another, he was lucky if she came once a week. And he had entertained the idea that she had found something more…fun…to do with her time and it was a thought that hurt.

What was a chore thus became a mission though he knew it would be no small task. Hawke was a rogue and that meant she was hard to follow without being noticed as she was usually that person herself. However, he knew he had his advantages as they had grown trusting and comfortable with one another and with that came a sense of ease and a lack of wariness.

He was sure that she knew someone was following her when she was out and about. She would look over her shoulder, glance into a dark corner, say something distracting to make the man she was with search a bit as if that would catch her stalker off guard. Fenris was too crafty for those stupid nobles…they never noticed the elf standing nearby as elves were of little concern to them at all.

It kept up for weeks. The men, dresses, makeup, the way she would be politely docile and give a soft laugh at things that weren't even funny. He watched as she went from accommodating, to annoyed, to just down trodden from the whole experience. Clearly she wasn't enjoying herself so why was she enduring company that she didn't care for? Nobility wasn't that important, he knew that much. As noble as Hawke herself was, she was not the commonplace nobility and she didn't need to make herself fit into that world.

Fenris was supposed to report back to their companions, but at the weekly meetings that Hawke both attended and missed he kept his silence. Usually he sighted a reason that made others believe him: Hawke was hard to catch, she went places he couldn't follow. Things that could be true, but often weren't. Wherever she went he was able to follow…the ability to phase his body and walk through walls meant that little, if anything, stopped him.

Soon, he grew tired of it. Watching this parade and routine she put herself through, how Kirkwall nobles were trying to even take the Ferelden out of her in some cases. This was a woman he cared for and they had even talked about something more being between them than just friends in some fashion or another. Even if nothing came of that…he couldn't help the jealousy he felt as well as the dull ache of not having her around like he used to. He owed her, promised to protect and help her…and that was enough reason.

Sometimes even Hawke needed saving, especially when she didn't even know she needed to be saved.

Another night, another date, another noble…where her mother found all of them Hawke couldn't quite figure out. They must have kept hidden in their luxurious estates all this time or something. What he was going on about, Hawke had no idea…she had tuned out his mindless chatter ages ago. In fact she was more focused on aching feet. Ridiculous shoes with pointed toes and a higher than practical heels on the back…she was never going to understand fashion.

Her senses came alive then and she blinked before she looked around…and saw him. Not that he was making an effort to hide too much and it was clear as they locked eyes that he was watching her as she strolled along on the arm of the man chattering on at her side. How embarrassing. Of all people, it was going to be Fenris that caught her like this? He was the last one she wanted to be caught by, considering her own feelings about him.

Fenris blinked as he watched them. So unlike herself to him that it was a tad disturbing. Then again, it always was when she was dolled up like that. Openly he let her know he was there and felt an uncomfortable tug in his chest when her attention was turned away from him by the man she was with.

He had pulled Hawke around in front of him, leaning in far too lose and whispering something that even Fenris' keen ears didn't catch. Whatever it was, Hawke clearly didn't approve as he saw the muscle in her jaw tighten in her effort to first not say something offensive and then politely smile and shake her head.

She was…playing bashful then? He wasn't sure, all this behavior from her being something he'd never known her to be capable of but as he had watched her these past weeks he knew her games. Whatever he wanted to name it, he watched as she turned away with bashful down turned eyes and a meek shake of her head as her hands clasped in front of her.

The noble standing behind her seemed emboldened by the action rather than politely put off and he showed it as he slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her back flush against him. Hawke looked like she was either deciding to kick him somewhere very unpleasant or rely on melodramatics to get out of the situation. He would guess she was leaning more toward the former than the latter as the man's hands slid down to rest on her hips and tug her snugger to him while he began to nuzzle her neck.

Hawke could handle herself…he knew that. So why she was holding back from hauling off and punching this man was a mystery...save for maybe she was trying to not cause trouble and get herself arrested or something. He blinked as her eyes suddenly turned to where he was once more and there was something in them that moved him from where he was before he even thought about it.

His eyes were glued to hers and nothing else mattered in that moment save for that beckoning glance. A moment that was broken as he was left standing a few feet from the two and the noble cleared his throat in annoyance. "Can I do something for you, knife-ear?

Fenris blinked and decided to think fast, looking between the two. Nobles in Kirkwall still saw elves as second class citizens so it was the easiest and most believable route. He'd let the racial slur slide for now in favor of helping Hawke. So he nodded his head to them both before he settled his attention on Hawke. "Mistress Hawke…Mistress Amell was getting worried about you and she sent me to gather you and make sure you got home safely. She fears you being caught in the weather tonight." Luckily the gathering clouds helped bolster his lie. Lying he was good at; he had to do a lot of it on the run.

Relief flooded Hawke's eyes and she turned an all too apologetic look to the man she was with. "I'm so sorry Jonathan. You know how she worries, so I better get home." She went to pull away and was annoyed as his hold tightened on her.

"You think I'm going to send you with a knife-ear into the dark? However loyal you may think he is to you, you can't ever trust them. A pretty young woman like yourself, all alone with him, in the dark of night…now now that's just not proper." He looked to Fenris, "I'll take her…in time."

Fenris and Hawke shared a look and they both caught what could be a double meaning. It made Fenris furious, jealous, and scared all at the same time. Especially with the implications being made as well. "Mistress Amell wants her daughter back home. Now." His voice a little more forceful with an edge that said despite what perceived station he held, it would be wise to obey his words.

One thing Hawke knew was that she didn't need this. It was bad enough this one was trying to bed her, even worse that Fenris was playing some sort of role that she found particularly upsetting. So she used the overly high heels of her shoes to ground the toes of her date, making him hiss and step away from her and she practically threw herself into Fenris' arms under the guise of tripping, which had caused her to crunch toes. That was her story and she was sticking to it.

Fenris easily caught her, holding onto her tighter than usual at the jealousy that was still trying to poke through to the surface. And it pleased him to no end that instead of simply righting herself and pulling away, she pressed back into him as she turned to politely address Jonathan. "I'm sorry, how clumsy of me…perhaps I'm more tired than I thought and very well should go home. I assure you, I'll be fine with Fenris. I wouldn't want you getting caught in any bad weather. It would ruin your clothes."

He was giving her a squinting stare of annoyance and anger before he gave a snort. "Fine. I won't be responsible for your virtue." Not even so much as a goodnight and he turned on his boot heel, heading off.

It was then that Hawke sighed and sagged in Fenris' arms, smiling lightly as his arms encircled her a bit more to support her weight better at the action. "That was painful. Please tell me that my mother didn't really send you…I'd rather not go home and have her question me on my evening."

"A lot of things about you seem painful at this moment." He shook his head however, making sure to watch the noble go off and not try to come back. "However, no. Your mother did not send me to fetch you. You just looked like you could use a little rescuing."

Turning in the circle of his arms to face him, she smiled before she was slipping out of his hold and taking his hand all in the same motion and then tugged at him to follow. "Good. Follow me."

One thing she was thankful for was that the nobles seemed to never leave Hightown and it was thus easy to escape under the cover of darkness with Fenris down to the docks. With the place clean of gangs, it was rather nice at night down by the water and she kicked off her heels the moment she got there.

Hawke gave a satisfying sigh as she dipped her feet into the cold waters of the harbor. That felt so much better on her aching ankles. She closed her eyes, enjoying the soothing cold sensation as she listened to Fenris sit down beside her and cross his legs rather than let them dangle into the water. "Has it been you that's been following me?"

Fenris gave a snicker. "I told them you would know if someone was...stalking you. But they were worried about you and apparently I just have the best vantage point what with you living in Hightown." He was still upset, unfamiliar with being jealous and not being able to push the feeling away. "So, is that what you do now? Play with the nobles since you are one now?"

She frowned at the hint of accusation in his voice. "I hate it. I'm only doing it to make Mother happy…I hope she's over it soon. I understand why she'd want to marry me off and what not but…ugh nobles. They're so boring. So I let her put me in a fancy dress and pretty me up and go out, have a free meal, give a smile, then go home and hope she's run out of social engagements."

"I think you look like one of the whores at the Blooming Rose." He stated dryly and didn't even flinch at the look Hawke turned on him. Yes, he would say the statement was correct with the way she looked.

"I think you're taking a few steps back in your flattery practice. If you think that, then it's no wonder Mother has so many avenues to pick from. Everyone wants a taste of Hawke. Paint me up enough and I'm pretty enough for anyone despite where I'm from."

Her being less than angry and countering him only made him angry and that jealousy flare. Everyone wanted a taste of Hawke…that sounded so wrong. He shook his head. "That's not what I meant." Hm…he should elaborate before he dug himself a hole. "You're wearing too much color on your face, your dress is cinched too tightly at the waist, and you look as if you're going to tip forward when you're standing from those shoes."

Hawke was quiet before she gave an affirming noise. "I suppose I would fit right in with the brothel girls when you put it that way. Pretty and precarious, ready for someone to catch me as I fall and I'm pleasing to stare luridly at. Show a little more cleavage and there you have it."

"And I don't think you're pretty."

"Again, going backwards in the flattery Fenris." It was somewhat disheartening that every other noble man in Kirkwall wanted a piece of her and yet Fenris, who she wanted a piece of herself, didn't hold an interest despite her appearance. What was with all the flirting they did then?

"If you didn't interrupt I could finish my sentences. As I was saying, I don't think you're pretty. Not like this. I know you Hawke and this isn't you. You don't go prancing around in pointy shoes and puffy dresses with your face all painted up and your hair…doing whatever it is now, I'm not quite sure what to call it. You're best at the opposite. When you're in your clunky boots, armor or something comfortable, and fresh faced with just a little color around your eyes and on your lips, your hair just always a little out of place. Then Hawke, you are still not even pretty, you are beautiful."

Hawke blinked and then thanked the Maker that it was dark as she blushed. "I take back what I said about your flattery." It made her warm and tingly to hear him say such a thing and it reminded her that what she felt for him possibly wasn't just one sided and that he genuinely had intent behind his flirting. "So…you wouldn't take me out to something fancy when I'm like this?"

"No. Firstly, I'm poor and an elf. I don't think they appreciate my kind in your so called fancy places that such fancy things occur in. Secondly I know you'd rather be covered in grit and bleeding on the Wounded Coast. That's where I'd take you, as you usually are every day rather than," he gestured to pretty much all of her, "this."

It was terribly endearing and he was right. She would rather be in such conditions…especially if he was going to be there too and it was just the two of them. "Go to the Coast, kill some spiders, spend a night under the stars together…that's all so much better than dancing, watching my manners and pretending I'm made of glass." Hawke gave an unladylike snort. "I can't believe he was worried about 'my virture' and the like with you. He's the one after it…not that there's any to take. I wish my mother wouldn't build up some Andraste like character of me to them."

Fenris watched her for a moment before he scooted closer and tentatively rested his arm around her shoulders. He allowed himself a small smile as she leaned into him and they settled together a little more comfortably. "If they don't like you as you are, then they aren't for you. Your mother should know that, despite wanting what's best. Sometimes what is best is not always what is right. You and I both know that." He wasn't the best for her, he knew that…but being around her, thinking of her as more than just a friend...it felt right. More right than most things had in his life.

Hawke smiled. She knew her mother's intentions were nothing but good but Fenris was right. "Maybe she'll realize that soon too and give up on this. I don't want to be mean, but I've played this game quite enough for her I think. I'm not out to impress anyone by being someone I'm not. A man who is worth my time enjoys me just the way I am." She had given him a purposeful look on that note.

The implication did not go over his head and he smiled before leaning in and resting his forehead against hers in an affectionate gesture of closeness. "Enough of this nobility business then? There's plenty that's been unattended on the Coast." His tone had gone slightly teasing as if he was trying to tempt a child with the promise of as much sweets as they wished.

"If you'll be there, I'll be there."

"As always, I remain at your side. In all things."

"Two conditions, first." She smiled at the skeptical raise of an eyebrow that he gave. "Firstly, don't ever call me 'Mistress' or act like you're below me ever again. I understand why you did it, but still." That got her one of his polite nods though he never removed his head from resting against hers, making her nod too. "Secondly…can you carry me home? Please? I think my ankles may snap if I try to walk on them."

Her tone was pleading, embarrassed, and coy all at the same time and it made him draw back and blink at her before giving a low chuckle of appreciation for that situation. "You ask to be saved from fancy shoes rather than dragons. That's the Hawke I know. I believe I can accommodate you in both areas. Can't have you hobbling around from broken ankles on the Coast. Might want to take a day or two to recover from your ordeal." He smiled as she did from his slight dramatizing.

Fenris rose from his cross legged position and easily scooped Hawke up into his arms bridal style. He smiled as she laced her arms around his neck for further stability, or at least some part of him had to rationalize, and then started to her estate. "Reading lessons and wine tomorrow then?"

"I suppose I should take it easy on myself and heal from the torment these nobles and their fashion ideals have put me through." She answered back with her usual amount of false drama. "Reading, wine, boots, and your crumbling, lonely, tiny-spider filled mansion. I wouldn't have it any other way." Truly she wouldn't…and she was also amused to no end that he had left her fancy heeled shoes right where they were on the docks. Probably on purpose. Good riddance.


	6. Scars

**A/N:** Did I mention that I'm an artist first and thus get easily distracted by it and that I can't art and write at the same time or I explode? Well now you know for when there's a lag in my updates. Believe me, I have PLENTY of prompts for this...I just have to do them. Also, thanks to everyone sticking with me! Hard to guage how I'm doing with lack of reviews and what not but I've been getting some motivating messages and seeing people also favorite/alert this and what not helps. Love.

**Title: **Scars

**Summary: **Hawke's Scars. Just like Hawke has a certain fascination with Fenris' lyrium scars, he has a fascination with her own scars. Hers aren't thought of in shame and she has a story to go with every single one.

**Warning: **Sensuality? Maybe gag worthy fluff. Post end game.

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><p>She watched up lovingly at him as he straddled her, his hands running along her body and reheating her cooling skin, already slicked with sweat from their earlier lovemaking. The touches were gentle, seeking to soothe and keep her desire at a simmer without making it boil over. Her own fingers were returning the gesture where they could reach, soft pads tracing the intricate contrasting patterns that blazed up his thighs and over his hips, up over his chest, shoulders and neck, then down his arms to the very fingertips that were touching her.<p>

It had taken a long time for her to be able to touch him so freely. No longer did he flinch and draw away but rather leaned into her touch and encouraged it. She enjoyed nothing more than the simplicity of tracing hard planes of muscle under slightly roughened and lyrium etched skin. At some point he had taken a page from her book and emboldened by his own responses to such simple touching he had taken to returning the gesture. Such moments were often their most intimate aside from when they were joined together in their lovemaking.

His touching was more than just that however this time, as she read it clearly in the elf's eyes. The slight calculating and searching, wondering flashes of intrigue in the mossy green depths as his eyes followed his fingers. They had started at her jaw, his hands working as mirror imagines of one another to pay tribute to both sides of her body at once. Fenris had brushed his thumbs along her cheekbones, letting his hands slide down her jaw to then brush her lips in same manner. Down her neck then, making her tilt her head back some for him as he leaned forward and his lips brushed over the pulse point there, making it thrum faster for a moment. Often he was fascinated by how she exposed her vulnerable points to him.

His palms left for a moment to just leave his finger tips touching as they danced over her collarbone, tracing out to her shoulders and he started a foray down her arms. His thumbs brushed the insides of her elbows and elicited a soft laugh from her before his palms made full contact again.

Not removing his hands from her skin he skimmed them down till they rested on her forearms in mirror action. They both knew of all the little nicks and slices that had scarred there. As a rouge she was often close and when a blade turned on her unexpectedly she was often throwing up a vambrace armored forearm to deflect the blow. Sometimes the blade still cut into and past the hardened leather, or the armor itself cut into her from force. But his fingers of his right hand found one scar in particular and slid up the length of it. This one on the underside of her right forearm, a long slice compared to the others, that ran almost all the way up to her elbow. "Where did this one come from?"

She had let her eyes close, reveling in the light touches as he was exploring. It was a simple moment that she was happy to indulge. "Carver. I was sparring with him when we were younger. The first time he was using a metal blade with an actual edge too it. He got a little too enthusiastic to best me."

Apparently satisfied with the answer, his hand slid down to hers, and pads of his fingers running over the jagged scarring that was present on her left middle finger, diagonal across its length and clearly it had been broken at one time. The same scar slightly continued over to her ring finger just below her first knuckle from her fingertip. "And this one?"

That he noticed even the smallest of details made her heart warm. He had always taken great pains to notice everything and that included things other people didn't see regularly or pay attention to. "That's from when I was learning to disable traps. I fowled up a claw trap. I knew when I did and I tried to pull away but I wasn't entirely fast enough. I was just happy to keep my hand and fingers really."

A simple nod was all that he gave to her answer and his hands continued downward then, slipping off her own hands and disappearing completely before his warm palms were settled on her knees and sliding up to rest on her thighs. Here on her left thigh his fingers traced again, first over one scar and then over another that overlapped the first in an X pattern. "These?"

"First gang fight in Lowtown, before knowing about them. I like to think of those as a 'welcome to Kirkwall' from the local ruffians. Believe me, a lot of those hang around Gamlen's place. It was quite the ambush. Needless to say, they became scarce around the place after that."

Now his hands traveled upwards, gripping at her hips and pulling her a bit closer as they passed over them and then continued upward to dance over her sides, picking out individual ribs. To her right side, his fingers slowed in their perusal and this time his expression changed from languid studious curiosity to concern. That concern was followed by anger as his eyes closed and his dark brows drew together as his fingers traced the long scar on her side. He didn't ask, for he knew where it came from and it still pained him to know it was there. She had almost died.

"The Arishok." Though he didn't ask she answered anyway as if they were still playing this questions and answers game. Her own hand left where it had been perched on his thigh and came up to cradle his jaw, which his face turned into her palm immediately at the contact as he was seeking his own comfort. She knew it still scared him to think on how things might have turned out. "I'm here Fenris." She reassured him softly and let him gather himself with the aid of the phrase she used so often with him.

Still his fingers continued to trace along the scar, perhaps reminding himself that the old wound was indeed knitted together and not threatening her life. He pressed a kiss to her palm and then turned his eyes back to her with a calmer and again loving expression and he nodded lightly. _"Let it be the memory and scar that it is, love. Nothing more."_ Words that she had told him once before on the matter and he diligently remembered when needed.

With renewed purpose and calm his hands traveled once more. They slid inward, letting his thumbs meet in the middle at her midriff and rub small circles before she smiled as they moved up to palm her breasts and she arched into his touch. No scars here, but he enjoyed touching her far too much to pass up the opportunity though there was motive to his actions as well. Her back arched, he slid his hands around her sides and then to her back now.

He rubbed small circles into the small of her back, urging her to relax back into his hands once more. Easily they worked up her spine until they reached between her shoulder blades. Here he found another slightly raised slash of skin that he rubbed at. When she made a noise in her throat he lowered his lips to her ear, his voice soft as if he didn't want to shatter the pleasant silence and moment with less than pleasant questions. "Does this one still hurt?" The origin of this one was known to him as well.

Despite his knowledge, she answered the question he didn't ask. "Meredith." The crazed Knight-Commander's lyrium made blade had bit into her between her shoulder blades, leaving a wound that took far too long to heal and a scar that stood out more than most from the blades make. While most she possessed were paler than her healthy skin, this one had always remained tinted an angry red as if it was still fresh. And it hurt, like feeling the blade cut into her fresh with the force of conviction and the burn of lyrium. She has always suspected that some of the lyrium had leeched into the wound from the blade as brief as the contact had been. So she too, now had lyrium under her skin just as her lover did…though hers was far less expansive and useful. For him it granted power, for her just pain. "Not as much as it used to."

Fenris knew that the pain wasn't constant for her either but he did worry over it from time to time. She had only escaped being run through with that blade because he had been close enough to her during the battle. He could still remember turning and seeing Hawke trying to stumble away from a fouled backstab as Meredith's long blade came down. Fenris had invoked his lyrium and ran toward Hawke, phasing right through her and with an up swing of his blade and controlled un-phasing he deflected the blade back out of his lover and to the side. She managed a less grave wound and was given enough time to recover from the blow and strike back.

When it was all over and the wound had healed, leaving behind the scar that it was now he had felt a certain sense of disturbance in his life. All too well did he remember the pain of lyrium being branded into his skin and it tormented him to think that she had experienced that pain in some manner as well. Only one, maybe two, people he would wish that one but Hawke was certainly not one of them. And despite her many reassurances that such things weren't happening to her…his mind couldn't help but dwell.

It was a time when he found himself trapped once again in the compartmentalized mind that he was owner to. The slave part of him, the injured and careful elf he had been resurfaced. He would reach to touch her and then pull back as if he reminded himself that he shouldn't touch her because touch would cause her pain. He had distanced himself in that manner and he hadn't realized until it was almost too late that such things were doing more harm than good.

How he would ever give up this here, this secure and loved feeling that came from such simple touches, and deny her that as well he had no idea. Mistakes however were something Fenris always learned from and after a sound argument with the woman over the matter…he resolved to go back to what he was best at when it came to old habits: to fight them, conquer them and come out the better for it.

That was the exact reason he was here with her now, his hands skimming her flesh and picking out the little imperfections that told the story of her struggles. Just as his body told his and she touched in kind back often. He closed his eyes and moved to press a kiss to her forehead before he rested his own against hers and smiled lightly as he felt her own hands go back to delicately tracing his own scars made of lyrium as well as the ones he'd gotten from battle.

"Even if it did hurt, I would bear the pain to have your touch." Hawke said it quietly, and knowingly as Fenris himself had said the exact same words before and she was going to use them now to remind him of old mistakes to not be repeated. And as she had told him as well, scars were nothing but old memories and marks of overcoming struggle. The pain wasn't in the flesh but in the mind and heart and the right person could heal all of it either way.

"As would I, for yours."


	7. I Am Here

**A/N:** I have got to get on a more reliable update schedule again. Promise I'll work on that. I have a thing where I try to reach 4 pages for each one shot and sometimes that just can't happen and I need to accept that and live with it. Being a perfectionist is hard.

**New thing!** I said I would tell people if I referenced back chapters so I'll just give it its own little header at the beginning. Again, back chapters not required to enjoy as these are stand alone but if you wish to refresh what is being referenced in more detail, I'm providing which one you should look at so you don't have to wander about. Some things I lift right out and modify. Gives it all a feel of some continuity and that makes me happy too. I like my plot threads to tie together.

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><p><strong>Question and Answer Time:<strong> For the occasional question I get in reviews and can't answer through PMs and such. Yes this is indeed a Friendmance. I understand that Chapter 3 is confusing because of the different ways that Fenris is approached to activate his romance. As I understand and have seen, it happens a few different ways. I've always gotten the glowy angry wall pushing one turns into kissing one. Specifics? Act 2 Questioning Beliefs complete Bitter Pill Straight back to Hawke Estate. It's still my favorite approach between the two.

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><p><strong>Title: <strong>I Am Here

**Summary: **Expansion on the LI comfort scene that follows the quest All The Remains.

**Warning: **Um… scene novelization a bit? Short chapter is short.

**Chapter Reference:** Silences

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><p>"I don't know what to say, but I am here." Fenris wasn't so sure what he meant by saying that…after what he'd done to her, what right did he really have to be here now? But he felt compelled to be here and despite his inability to be with her like he thought he needed to be, he did still care for her. She didn't need to be alone through this.<p>

He liked to think that if anyone knew Hawke, it was him. Even with their little romantic fallout a few months back. She would blame herself. Just like Leandra blamed Hawke for the fates of Bethany and Carver, just like Gamlen blamed Hawke for Leandra…it was tradition. Hawke would blame herself because there was no one else left to throw the blame on her. It certainly didn't help the woman's mind that she had been involved in this whole affair from when it first came up years ago.

"Just say something, anything." Anything to keep her from thinking too deeply. She didn't even remember how she had gotten home, just that she was. Briefly she remembered telling her uncle and he had thrown a fit in his own grief, evidence of such in a few broken pieces of pottery and the like.

Her father had told her to take care of the family when he died…and instead she had gotten them all killed. All of them. Carver's need to prove himself her better sent him to his death, dragging Bethany down to the Deep Roads sealed her fate as being a Warden meant being as good as dead, and now she hadn't acted fast enough to save her own mother.

She was the last Hawke. Had spent years building up what once had been lost. To give her family someplace to belong after losing so much, to give her mother back what she had given away to be happy in her own life with her father. Now what was left? A big empty house in an unkind city that took more than it gave. It was an empty feeling so deep she wasn't sure it even had a bottom, so dark she couldn't see anything in it. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

"They say death is only a journey. Does that help?" He wasn't good at giving comfort, often refusing it himself. He knew he didn't want pity and assumed that most others did not either. But this was Hawke and he was not going to let her wallow. At least not alone. It was the common saying that 'misery loves company'…who knew misery better than him?

"It just raises questions. Journey to where?" Even Aveline questioned if there was indeed a place to be had at the Maker's side, barring that there was a Maker of course. The thought of her mother wandering the Fade was a horrific idea. The counter thought of her mother happily with Malcolm and Carver once more was more comforting, even if it was idealistic.

"I don't know. It's just something people say." Fenris suppressed a cringe at his blunt statement of truth. It made him seem uncaring when he was everything but. He just…didn't know what to say. Words were not going to make her feel better, they would not change things. "To be honest, I don't think there is much point to filling these moments with empty talk."

That said, silence filled the room, but it was a sort of silence that she was used to when it came to Fenris. Words weren't always needed, he seemed to understand that. She wanted to hear something so that she didn't have to think but even if someone was talking she wouldn't listen and would think anyway.

They sat together, close enough to touch but just enough space to not be so, shifting from time to time. Eventually they both ended up leaning forward with their elbows on their thighs and hands clasped between their knees. Still so close but so far apart…It was a moment when Fenris felt the weight of the agonizing distance he was forcing between them.

Not that he was sure what he would do if things were different. Again, he was not good at comfort, wasn't sure how he would go about it. He just knew that he wanted to give it to her. Somehow. In a way that meant something more than just placating a broken heart. He turned a look to her, furrowing his dark brows slightly and shifting his weight some to bow his head more to get a look at her own bowed face.

She caught his eyes with her own for the barest second and something passed between them, and Hawke shook her head lightly. He was asking her questions without saying a word but unlike the others he let her answers go rather than trying to force her one way or another with them.

His back straightened then, as did hers and they looked at one another fully. He questioned her with his eyes again and she nodded, shifting lightly toward him as he rested his hand on her back. It was all he could think to do…he just couldn't sit there with her and watch her curl into herself. He had said it, he was here for her…but what did empty words truly mean? He was pragmatic and that's why he had been blunt with her on that notion.

It was clear to him that she wanted her moment of misery. She wanted to feel broken, feel the weight of the sadness. She didn't want to bounce right back like she did with everything else, be a follower instead of a leader and let someone else tell her what she needed to do. They both knew that she was blaming herself, thinking there was something else she could have done. Fenris knew for sure that no one would be able to convince her otherwise and shouldn't try. It was something she had to forgive herself for in her own time. That didn't mean however that she had to do it completely alone. Someone just had to be strong enough for her so she could be the follower rather than the leader this time. Everyone else wanted to walk in figurative step with her while she wanted to walk behind them.

Being here for her…he still had no idea what it all meant or what his allowances were. After all, they had history now both good and bad whether they cared to acknowledge it or not. He did know that he was perfectly capable of sitting quietly with her, letting her lean on him as she needed and draw on his strength. He could lead her until she was ready to lead again herself and offer his ever unwavering loyalty and support. If she chose to speak about it, he would listen and talk when asked.

If Hawke chose to forget the moment, pretend that it didn't happen, he would not be the one to bring it up. If she wanted to rage against everything in her path, he would not be the one to run and hide from her. After all she had done for him and all that was and could possibly be between them, he at least owed her this much.

That night was another night he stayed with her in her bedroom; though this time he would watch over her in her restless sleep rather than giving in to base passion and trying to solve a hurt that way. She felt alone in the world now, and he was going to remind her that she wasn't, even if it was as simple as her waking up to him sitting at the end of her bed. He was here. Here felt right. Somewhere inside himself, Fenris knew that he perhaps belonged here as well.

There would be no true 'here' for him yet though and he knew it. He still had things to do, chains to break and a past to settle. But he did know, without question, that 'here' would still be waiting for him. He was scared to think how long the waiting would last but it didn't matter at this moment. Right now, Hawke needed him so he was here and here is where he would stay.


	8. Into The Sunset

**Title: **Into The Sunset

**Summary: **Hawke has been made Viscount of Kirkwall…and it's slowly killing her. After fighting so hard and so long to be with her, Fenris isn't about to let that happen. It's time to break from the City of Chains. Post end game.

**Warnings: **Mostly depression/angst. Fluff and disguises! Also plot hole filler. Love the plot hole filler.

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><p>They had begged her, this city that somehow had put her at the top of everything to solve all their problems. It was up to her to put the pieces of a ruined city back together…it wasn't going well however and she didn't even want to most days. From refugee to Viscountess, Hawke had clawed her way up the social ladder…and she hated it.<p>

Standing in the office of the Viscount's keep, she stared out the high arching window that reflected her image back to her. The woman looking back wasn't recognizable anymore, dressed in the heavy trappings of her position and with the thin circlet of a now dead man on her head. Demeanor more often than not serious as opposed to her natural playful nature, some days she felt like she was playing dress up. In a way, she was punishing herself. She thought that bending to their needs would allow her to atone for a sense of guilt that had crept up her spine ever since that night. It hadn't been right, all that had happened.

Mages using blood magic deserved to die, those consorting with demons deserved to die, but all the others? Those merely born with the talent and trying to live with it? People like her sister? They did not deserve to die.

She had decided to side with the Templar Order not from peer pressure, but from her own personal beliefs. Hawke had found herself to be in favor of the Circles of Magi, despite how her own father and sister were apostates and more often than not she found herself in the company of more of them. Mostly harmless ones when it came to the darker sides of the arts. The Circle had its place…when it worked properly, when its Templars were not happier to drink down lyrium but actually take care of their charges as they were taught. It was supposed to be about teaching control, but it didn't take a genius to know that the Gallows was anything but that kind of institution.

Still…in siding with the Templars, she had signed the death warrants of mages that didn't deserve to be killed. She supposed that she could understand the mentality…after all, even Orsino had become a disappointment as he turned to blood magic. Even with the fact, the other fact that Meredith had turned on her was equally disappointing. It was no wonder Kirkwall was so full of twisted things with the role models not being good examples.

That was in the past and now she had the present and future to deal with. What she would give to go back…maybe keep her nose out of a few things and remain just another faceless citizen. That was foolish thinking and she knew it though. Things in Kirkwall would have gone the path they had with or without her there in the thick. In the grand scheme of things, she was just always in the right place in the right time and more often than not willing to take on everybody's inane tasks and dropped duties for the sake of adventure or coin.

She was drawn by her thoughts by another reflection in the window and her eyes glanced to it before she turned a look over her shoulder to the owner of the reflection that had joined hers.

Fenris quietly stood and waited. He didn't have to say anything…they had a routine. While she spent her days mostly in this little space and trying to play ruler of the forsaken city, he milled around the Keep. He was never far from her, wanting to keep close in case she needed him…it was no secret that Hawke had as many enemies as she did allies. When night came and he thought she had worked enough for the day, he would come to her office.

Every night, he would walk her home. Sometimes he stayed, sometimes he went back to his borrowed estate. The only thing that was certain was the changes that happened. While in the Keep and her dressed as Viscountess and playing the role…he didn't like to touch her. That was not his Hawke and while he had been telling her that for weeks now, she was too tied up by her guilt.

Hawke regarded him quietly as she knew why he was there but instead of merely going to him and leaving with him, she leaned back against the glass as she turned to face him. "Are you happy here Fenris?"

The question caught him off guard, however it was his nature to be truthful. "No. You aren't either." Maybe the truth was finally starting to sink in? Despite her guilt nothing would ever be enough for these people to make it better. There would always be those that hated or loved her decisions, she would never be able to please everyone, so she should stop trying. She should focus on making herself happy.

"What do you do when settling for what you've got isn't enough?"

Fenris tilted his head as he listened and regarded her. She was so tired of being the leader and answering everyone. Sometimes even she wanted to be led. That's why she was asking. "You run from it." The look she gave him told him what she was thinking. Hawke had told him for years that he couldn't run away from his own problems forever. Eventually he had to stop and he had. But no one could stop forever…if you did then you were dead. "As far as you think you have to, then you stop. And start over. Hope that you get what you want that time."

"Sounds familiar." Hawke smiled, the slightest bit of humor entering her voice as she recognized her own words being given back to her. She sighed. "I always thought that this place could be home…but it's never really felt like it. I've been running for most my life, here I thought that would stop and it did…but it's never felt right. I've always wanted to run from this place since I got here. I'm tired of running."

"Then we don't run. We walk." His dry humor cropped up and he gave a light shrug to her amused raise of an eyebrow at it. "As long as it's away from here and to a place where all that matters is us…it doesn't matter how fast we go."

"We?"

Fenris shook his head and approached her, taking her hand to pull her back to her feet from her slumped position. "I told you before, wherever it is the future takes you I am going to be right by your side. You've no need to fear losing me. Even if you have become boring and give me no reason to have to protect you or the like anymore." His smile told her that he was teasing about that last part, despite how serious it could be taken. "We wouldn't be running away from this Hawke, we'd be running toward something greater."

He knew exactly why she had stayed this long, why she tried to glue things back together. There weren't enough pieces nor enough glue to save this place, he knew that for a fact. "Hawke…you take care of people, it is what you do. You forget however that sometimes you need to be taken care of as well, whether you're taking care of yourself or letting someone else do it. It is time to take care of you, despite your guilt. There is no reason to be guilty…you didn't cause this mess and you shouldn't feel the need to clean it up just because you're able. They made their own bed, they should lay in it."

She closed her eyes against his words…he was always honest with her, he always said the things she needed to hear when no one else would tell her. It was one of the reasons she loved him in the list of many. "Time to take care of you too." She knew she hadn't been fair to him either in this whole endeavor of trying to bring a broken city back together as the rest of the world continued to fall apart.

"We'll take care of each other." Screw this place and worldly problems, let them all fight like cats and dogs. His world was pragmatic and simple and consisted of only Hawke and himself and it was all he needed.

They couldn't just walk out of Kirkwall, nor just sail out of the port. There was always someone in her business and stealing away quietly into the night would even garner attention. Where was she going? What was she doing? When would she be back? Did she need guards? Could she take a treaty or two with her? Who was in charge while she was gone? All of these questions always came up. Hawke couldn't even go get a drink at the Hanged Man anymore without a lengthy interrogation process by Seneschal Bran.

Somewhere between pacing, planning, and playing Viscountess she was struck with an idea. Those who milled around the Keep probably thought that something horrible or wonderful was happening as she ran from her office and around the place, looking for the broody elf that usually loitered in the Keep.

She found him discussing the finer points of swordplay with the city guards in the barracks and without explaining, she was Viscountess and she didn't have to explain anything she did, she pulled him away from them and back to the privacy of her office. Hawke locked the door and turned a pleased smile to him. "I've gotten an idea."

Fenris was to say the least perplexed but he didn't resist and followed her. He tilted his head at her demeanor and her secretive actions and he didn't have to ask what she was talking about at her proclamation. "And it would be?" He looked around the room as if to make sure they were alone.

"We'll simply not be ourselves." Hawke proclaimed as she set her hands on her hips and titled her chin up in victory of her own idea.

The elf blinked in confusion. "Would you care to elaborate? If we are not ourselves who are we to be? Not to mention how hard that may be for some of us…" He stood out terribly in any crowd.

"No you see, I figured it out. We'll leave in disguise. I'll just be another human and you can be Dalish."

"Dalish?" His tone still held some confusion. Was she trying to not be clear on purpose?

"Yes Dalish. We'll do enough to change our looks, dress down, and as for your markings…we'll just paint over them in ink and add some more patterns to make them even less recognizable. Like the Dalish do. Therefore, you can be Dalish and no one will think twice."

"Seems too simple." He chuckled despite his declaration, because it caused Hawke to blink at him like he was crazy for his thought and doubting her plan. "I expected something more…elaborate."

"Everyone is expecting something elaborate. A lot of people are coming and going these days and no one is going to notice two people who look like everyone else, acting like everyone else and leaving."

Fenris supposed that there was merit to that thought. Hawke was expected to always be elaborate because that was the way she did things. Acting the opposite probably would go unnoticed. "And if we are caught?"

"We lie."

"This plan gets more and more far too simple."

"What? I'm a good liar. Let me do the talking, you scowl because you hate humans and what not and we get out of town. It's worth a try right? And if it doesn't work…well then I'll do something bold and brash. Doesn't hurt to try…I'd like to get out of here with as little fuss as possible."

His expression softened as her tone took a downward defeatist turn in tired fashion. "Alright, we'll try it that way. Are you going to tell the others?" Fenris couldn't help but smile as her mood brightened again at his agreement.

It seemed that she had become a stranger to their companions. Either lack of time for gallivanting or the way things had turned out kept them apart. Fenris stayed close despite it. "Yes…I'm going to tell them…and offer for them to come as well. Isabela would let us use her ship, we talked about it once and I'm sure she's still dying to get away from here. And I can't leave the others here to rot in this city either."

"And if they want to stay here and rot, as you put it?" His dark brows drew together as her expression fell once more. "Despite what they decide, this is about you and I. We go whether they stay or not."

She nodded her head as he reinforced his own point on this despite her doubt. "Then that's what they want."

Letters had been sent to all their companions. Those that were going were to meet them at the dock as Isabela agreed to help, oddly enough not for a price. The only thing left to do was for Hawke to stash away as much of her wealth as possible, take with her what she though worthy enough to lug around in travel, and then pay the Coterie for an unfortunate accident later.

When the time was right, she put all her careful plans into action. A lie to the Seneschal and all the other nosey people in her life that she, and Fenris as her bodyguard, were going to make a trip to Starkhaven for some negotiations with Prince Sebastian was her cover. She refused all other form of guard or escort and with Fenris carrying their packs they had casually made their way from the city and deep enough into the mountains for privacy.

There, they spent two nights to further the falsity of their business trip so that people wouldn't wonder too badly. It was then with some anxiety that Hawke dawned her disguise and helped Fenris with his as well.

It really was a simple thing. Soot from the fire took care of masking the color of Fenris' hair from white to a dark black matching his brows, while a bit of powder mixed with dye tinted Hawke's from its usual color. A bit of creative styling took care of the rest and once she was satisfied that they would blend in with a crowd she moved on to other things.

Sure, some had looked at her funny for buying clothes in Lowtown, the less elaborate the better even though the merchants wanted to give her their best. She hadn't been looking for the best which meant she ended up with a pile of gray and brown and she was pleased as punch.

Stowing away their armor in travel packs, Hawke slipped herself in a dress while Fenris slipped into a long sleeved tunic and trousers as Hawke had taken care to get him something that would mask most of his markings. He looked like he was ready for winter sans fur for extra warmth but it worked.

That's where the Dalish part of the plan came in. He didn't care to wear gloves, she didn't want to have the boots argument with him right then and she couldn't wrap him all up without drawing attention. So the patterns of lyrium that were still showing were covered with dark blue ink. Not only did she have fun applying the ink but she was pleased with her handiwork as he looked authentic Dalish.

She felt only relief and excitement when they had entered Kirkwall again and not a single person gave them even a glance. They were nobodies in a sea of equally unimportant people. Another human that perhaps crawled up from Darktown, another Dalish who was either trying to make his own way by serving a human to get out of the Alienage, or one who was tired of nature and came to live in it.

Excitement gave way to apprehension however the closer they got to the docks. Who would be there waiting to leave as well? Would they make it onto the boat and out of the harbor? All the what ifs popping up in her head again. Fenris must have sensed it because her brushed his hand against hers in a comforting gesture to draw her eyes and gave her a slight reassuring smile and a nod. She had to remember that when it came down to it all, the decisions of others couldn't matter to her. This was about them and about being happy.

Hawke was still feeling the butterflies in her stomach as she walked up the gangplank and onto Isabela's ship, her eyes immediately picking out the pirate among the others she had hired on to work the ship. Disappointment weighed heavy at the lack of recognition of other faces she had hoped to see. None of them on deck, none in the crowds at the dock. As the ship eventually started out into the open sea she was tempted to make a last ditch attempt to convince her companions to come along but Fenris kept her anchored where they stood with his fingers twined with hers. Hawke didn't speak until the city's harbor walls were faded in the early morning fog. "I guess that's goodbye then."

"And good riddance. I may not even miss my position as Guard Captain. It was getting far too stressful anyway and I have greater things too look forward." Aveline chuckled as Hawke whirled around, the woman displaying a look of shock at the guard herself and her husband, along with the rest of their friends. "Come now, if you're not running the city, there is no way I'm staying there."

"You didn't think you were going to get away without us did you Hawke?" Varric laughed as well. "We wanted to surprise you, or maybe give you a heart attack. Whichever happened first. There are places to go, people to see, and stories to fabricate still. Every hero needs a band of merry men…women included. No, it's not goodbye to us, it's goodbye Kirkwall and hello the rest of Thedas."

"So Hawke, where would you like to go first? Lead on and we'll follow."


	9. Three Words

**Author Note: **So it was a messy couple of years for me that put a stop to my writing as I got my life together, not to mention I am also working on a non-fan personal work in the meantime. But things have settled down and I can get back to this and finish all the chapters I started and didn't get up. Hope you all aren't angry with me and still want to read this stuff! Back to the good part!

**Title:** Three Words

**Summary:** Hawke and Fenris have an openly complicated relationship and their companions easily notice. The deeper things between them become the more outspoken the companions become and they worry about Hawke. Act III, post relationship reconcile, pre end game.

**Warnings:** Isabela and Aveline in the same room. Otherwise and little bit of bitterness and then fluff.

"If he never says it, then how do you know? Don't give me that rubbish of 'you just know' either. Come now Hawke, we're both women and as tough and steely as we make ourselves out to be we're still both women underneath. Admit it, hearing such a thing would set you tingling all over."

"Tingling? Is that how you're supposed to feel? That's not what I felt the last time I heard it."

"The kind of tingling you feel often comes with a rash. Besides I doubt _you've_ ever been in love, whore." Aveline shook her head, giving a sigh of frustration at the pirate's lack of cooperation. Frankly she wished she never even showed up but she always had to stick her nose into things.

"Well how do you know she's in love at all?" Isabela skeptically eyed the woman they were talking to, and about like she wasn't even there, before she clicked her tongue against her teeth in disbelief.

"How do you manage to question the obvious all the time?" She smirked as the pirate rolled her eyes and turned her attention solely, or at least attempted to, on Hawke. "It is obvious that you are."

Hawke drew in a breath and held it for a moment, praying to the Maker for some semblance of patience at the moment. Slowly she let it out and finally let herself regard the woman sitting across the small table from her. "I do love him; I've made no secret of it really. Why are you even bothering me about this? How did it even come up?"

"Because we're all concerned about you. He's not exactly…well, I'm not sure how to put it delicately."

Isabela scoffed and gave a short bark of laugher. "Delicate? There is nothing delicate about that man. All hard muscles and sharp edges. Rippling with constant tension and giving that searing gaze that could kill you if you stare too long. Striking fear and wonderment with all that lyrium of his, leading only Hawke knows where." She sucked in a breath as her voice had gone husky with her description and she rubbed her hands along her arms. When she noticed the frown from both women she merely gave a shrug. "What? It's the truth. Delicate is the wrong word to use. I'm not quite sure what the right one is, but it's not that."

Aveline cleared her throat pointedly. "As I was trying to say, Hawke", stressing the name as she tried to draw the attention of one woman more and purposefully exclude the other, "He's had a hard life and old habits die hard. Surely you've thought about it. Love may not be what's keeping him at your side. Just…normalcy."

The frown that Hawke was wearing deepened at the implications and at the truth in them and in her own thoughts. "Yes Aveline, I've thought about it. Too much for my own liking but it has crossed my mind." How couldn't it? That would be the more appropriate question. Not that it meant she even wanted to have this discussion. If anything, this whole discussion made her want to drink.

It seemed the Maker was answering prayers today as Isabela duly plopped a drink down in front of her. That woman was always in her expensive booze, but she'd let it pass this time. Easily she picked up the small cup and tossed back the fiery liquid. "Shouldn't you be worrying about your own relationship?"

Isabela smirked at the guardswoman as she had frowned. "She looked like she needed a drink. Anytime you interrogate someone they deserve one."

"I'm not interrogating. Hawke, I'm just trying to look out for you." Aveline had a tendency to mother the woman since Leandra had passed on. It did suit her, but she knew it wasn't always appreciated. Like now for instance. "I just don't want you confusing his habits with love. I don't want him to either. He values his freedom above all else…I suspect he would not take it well to wake up one morning and realize that he is not truly free, but instead has just found himself a new owner."

That word made Hawke's hand clench into a fist. That stupid word. Owner, master, mistress. All the same and all made her blood boil. At least when it came to Fenris as the one being seen as the property, the slave, the one who needed to be led around and on a leash. She just wished that there wasn't any truth to the matter at all, then she wouldn't care.

"Does he even know what you two are doing? I'm sure it wasn't one of the things taught to him. There is that saying that love conquers all and I can hardly imagine a slave owner wanting their slaves to know such a weapon." Hawke's continued silence made her purse her lips and she continued on, "I'm not the first to notice either and I know I'm also not the first to say something to you."

Isabela broke the silence that ensued then, giving another scoff and dramatic hand gesture of shooing at Aveline. "That's enough big girl…keep it up and she's going to start hurting you. Besides, maybe she likes him that way. Best not to get too tangled up in emotions, all they do is get you in trouble."

"Shut up whore. At least I'm looking out for her. What are you even doing here? Making sure you can get past the locks and help yourself to things that aren't yours?"

"How about you both leave? I don't want to discuss this. I get your concern…but you, nor anyone else, know what you're talking about."

The other two women shared a look between one another before Isabela shrugged and promptly started to saunter off while Aveline stared another long moment at Hawke. She sighed. "I don't understand you sometimes…just…take care of things Hawke. Don't leave it up in the air. For your sake." Final words from the Guard Captain and she was getting up and seeing herself out.

Left alone now, Hawke sighed and rubbed at her temples before she rose from her seat and crossed her arms. She moved close to the fire then, staring into the flames as her mind started to toss about the possibilities of exactly what the relationship between her and Fenris was built upon.

Yes, it had crossed her mind. Fenris knew mostly how to be a slave…and even being a so called free man he still held on to old habits. His life had been so wrapped up in Danarius and then seemingly wrapped up with her in a peculiar parallel. He did what she asked without question, followed her about often a few steps behind, saw to her needs first in most cases. So yes, part of her had thought of it: What if Fenris wasn't in love with her but in reality just replacing Danarius with her? No longer a slave in traditional sense but still a slave none the less, bound to her. He even marked himself as hers in a way with the red fabric he wore around his wrist. Everyone knew that had been hers first. Kisses, intimacy and affection weren't even good indicators of things…Hadriana had put him through those things as well, and she didn't even want to think about Danarius participating in such actions either even if it was likely. Those could be powerful weapons and binders as well. Rewards to boot for good behavior.

When her mind wasn't thinking up quirky remarks and being serious, it had the penchant to be cruel to her with cold logic. She wasn't sure what to do with this particular piece of logic either. Her mind did want to battle it though…for three years before they even met he had been on his own, following no one's order. He could think for himself, rely on himself. But that doubt spoke up again…what if he preferred being told what to do, for someone to lead him? It was sure easier to be a follower than a leader in most cases. Easier for someone to do all the thinking and what not…sometimes she wished she was a follower too. No doubt someone who was rebuilding their life would want some easy routes as well, even if named differently. Did he love her and want her, or need and use her?

It was never good when Isabela came out of Hawke's estate. It was an even worse thing when Aveline came out shortly behind her. It meant the two rogues had either been fist fighting and Aveline was trying to not arrest one of them, or…well Isabela being a pain in general. That was why Fenris has waited a few minutes before he had approached the place and knocked, being let in without question. They often told him he didn't have to knock and could just let himself in but that still felt a little strange to him.

He found her before the fireplace, still and clearly contemplating something. That meant Isabela and Aveline being here was for bad reasons, usually. "The logs are already aflame, Hawke. You needn't stare at them that hard any longer." He could tell by the slight shift in her stance that gave away her surprise that she had been lost in her own thoughts. The look she gave him over her shoulder was quickly returned to the fire all the same and he came to stand quietly beside her. As he looked into the fire himself he titled his head then looked to her. "Why are we staring so intently at the fire?"

She didn't answer him and merely continued to stare into the fire. He seemed to take the hint and fell silent beside her, letting her sort out her thoughts. When she finally broke the silence he wasn't sure that he heard her right at first. "Some people think you're my slave."

"Excuse me?" He quirked an eyebrow, his question in a surprised and skeptical tone that got her to turn a look at him, her brows furrowing.

"Don't make me say it again." Clearly her feathers were ruffled over the possibility of the concept.

He blinked once more, continuing to watch her as his expression leveled out. "I am not." He stated so simply and clearly what was a fact. Whoever had that idea in their heads was obviously a fool of some sorts. In this case his mind turned to a skeptical minded guard and a foolish pirate. They were always getting into business they didn't belong. Oddly enough it didn't hurt that they perhaps thought that way. They wouldn't be the first.

"Are you sure?"

Now his interest was truly piqued and he looked at her once more, easily noticing how she wouldn't look back at him and instead just stared at the fire still. Why would she ask a question like that? She knew her own actions better than anyone else and he certainly would know if they were the actions of a slaver of some sorts. "Are you?"

Now she looked at him and if looks could kill he would at least be bleeding profusely if not dead. "This isn't about me."

"Yes. Clearly, it is about me." She had heard something, someone had said something. He wasn't sure of what any of it was but the implications involved their state of existence together in a less than pleasant manner. "It is not a surprising thing to hear, Hawke. I was once a slave, I'll always be an elf. People will assume on the shape of my ears alone. What elf wouldn't be smart enough to attach themselves to someone of influence and with a good heart as well so they would get decent treatment?" He gave a short humorless laugh. "I did not think that such words would bother you, when you know the truth of how things are."

"Neither did I." She knew that he loved her, even if he didn't say it all the time like other men. She liked it that way…because when he did, it would mean more than just pretty words. Words were not his forte, he was more of a man of action.

"Then why does it now?" Another bout of silence came from her and it was only serving to frustrate and worry him a bit. He reached over and brushed the back of two fingers over her cheek and into her hair, pushing a few loose strands away from her face in an affectionate and encouraging gesture. "Talk to me Hawke."

"It is of popular opinion…that I could possibly be nothing more to you than Danarius' replacement." She shook her head before letting it hang and she watched the floor, not even liking what she was admitting to as well. "What's worse is that I can see the truth in the words."

"Can you? Care to elaborate? After all, I of all people would know if that were true or not and yet you are practically begging to differ. So tell me." Of all the thoughts to cross her mind, this was just absurd.

"You do anything I tell you, you walk behind me, you're always seeing to me before you see to yourself, you mark yourself as mine…it's not hard to see what other people are seeing. They see me, Champion of Kirkwall with her ever obedient elf." That was not who they were and not how she wanted people to see them. "And I'm afraid that you see an easy way to live without having to start over completely."

He watched her for a moment before the corners of his lips turned up in a smile and he gave a light chuckle, the noise drew Hawke's attention easily and she was then watching him in confusion tinged with anger. Probably because she didn't think it was funny and he apparently did by his laughter. "I do those things for reasons other than to be obedient or subservient to you."

He took her by the shoulders, turning her body as well as his own so they were facing one another rather than the fire. "Don't be afraid Hawke. I'm not with you because it's easy to be a follower instead of a leader. I don't need you to tell me what to do every second of the day and night. I do feel a need to protect you because I don't want to see you harmed. I mark myself as yours because I want others to know and frankly it keeps people away from me too. That's a perk. All these things people see are a matter of perspective and belief."

"And frankly, I don't give a flying high dragon what they think, what their perspective or opinion is, or advice of sorts. I know what you are to me and what I am to you…and you should know too. Why you would question that just because of someone else's opinion is beyond me. Since when did the Mighty Hawke listen to anyone but herself?"

She stepped forward, bowing her head to rest her forehead against his shoulder and he easily wrapped his arms around her with the movement, giving her what reassuring closeness she needed at the moment. "I don't know…I guess this Champion business is going to my head. People care who I am now, what I do, who I do it with. They're either looking out for me or wanting me to set an example. Slave owner is hardly an example I want to set with you proving the point. Even if it is a benevolent one."

He shook his head lightly. "Let them see what they want. I let them see what they want from me all the time. They're going to say and think what they please and even if you try to prove them wrong they'll always doubt what you say." Fenris sighed lightly, knowing that the broad picture wasn't all his Hawke needed however. He had to put her fears to rest as well or she'd torment herself with her own popular opinion twisted thoughts.

"Besides…I like to walk behind you and the like…it's a very nice view. When I kiss you, I don't think about anyone else, I don't hear anyone's voice aside from yours. I run errands for you because you can't do everything by yourself even if you think you can and I love the look of surprise on your face when you've found something you've been scrambling to get to be already done. Not to mention that then I get the benefit of your appreciation and your free time. All these things people see as negative, we both know are positive in our own perspectives. Now then…I know Isabela and Aveline were here. I know they don't understand our relationship as it seems no one does or is willing to…so what did they say to put your head into a dark place like this?"

"I know and I know that I know better…I know how things are between us. When you kiss me I know you've missed me. When you hold me I know it's because you want to be close as you can to me. You talk to me with trust and affection over obedience and submission. You fight back against things that could be taken in a bad light and keep them in the right mindset." She sighed and looked back up to him. "You're a man of action and I know that…they want proof from your own mouth because they don't understand your actions or silences. Not as I do anyway.

That surprised him in a way, as she had just said herself and knew, he wasn't big on words. So many people wanted to hear words. Wanted him to denounce every ounce of slave in him and sing about his freedom from mountaintops. In this case they wanted him to make heartfelt proclamations of affection for Hawke, maybe even claim her as his own with words. He had never said to any of their companions that he and Hawke were together, but that was because Hawke handled those words and they all should be able to see the truth of things. Clearly he had too much faith in them. "Yet you say you understand my action and silence perfectly."

"I do and it's stupid of me to think of anything than what I know of is truth. I've never needed you to tell me time and time again how you fell. I don't need you to start either if that's what you think this is going to come to. The only thing I've ever been out to change about you is you being truly free and you are, and you wanted that far before I wanted that for you."

"Good to know…because I'm not about to start giving you flowers every time I see you and spouting poetry in front of our companions just because they want to see me swoon over you. There are plenty of young men to swoon already and they should just remember that I hurt those men and that says enough of how I feel for you."

"Good because I don't think I could handle you doing any of that. You hurting people for my honor and to stake your claim is always enjoyable…you starting to serenade me and never let go of my hand in public would be a bit too much. I would think you've lost your mind."

"I would have, so if it ever happens you need to investigate." Fenris chuckled again and then pushed her away gently to press a kiss to her forehead, smiling as the tense worry had left her face and her posture. "Feel better?"

"I'm sorry, you know stress makes me a stupidly thinking person."

"Stress just temporarily overrides your common sense. Especially when your friends are the ones doing the stressing. Let it go Hawke."

She nodded and let out a light sigh as was her way when she was actually letting something go in the mental sense. Here right now proved more than enough that he loved her because he wanted the record straight.

"Hawke?"

"Fenris?"

"I love you." He knew that she knew, they both knew. But he knew it didn't hurt for her to hear it sometimes…and it felt pretty good saying it to her too. And they both knew that it was something for her ears only and that's what made the meaning of the words all the more potent.


	10. Poison

**A/N: Yeah, I took a long break. My life got interesting, I got a job, and an apartment and all that jazz. Needless to say that took time away from the fun things. But now I'm back at it! Hope no one hates me for the wait!**

**Title: **Poison

**Summary: **After being made champion of Kirkwall, Hawke is having trouble remembering her place in the grand scheme and goes to the only person she knows she can count on. Between Act II and III, pre-relationship reconcile/Alone quest.

**Warning: **Insecure Hawke, angsty Fenris. Rejection.

**Chapter Recalls: **Silences

* * *

><p>Champion of Kirkwall. Everyone loved it apparently. Came with a party, a fancy set of armor designed just for her, invitations to the top tier gossip worthy agendas…and yet it still felt a little hollow. Walking into her estate…she couldn't get farther than the foyer. For all the achievement she had gained, who was there to be happy for her? Another time when she was reminded how alone in this city she was with her entire family now gone. After things had started to die off at said celebration in her honor, even her friends were heading back to their usual hangouts. The mages went off to do mage things and probably giggle, Varric and Isabela no doubt had another few drinks to have and a few cards to play, Aveline got to go home with Donnic. Fenris had left on his own when it was implied that the celebration was coming to a close. Hawke had been obligated to stay even longer for the nobles and such to gush over her some more.<p>

Now back at her place, all dim and quiet, she was struck by old feelings she had once tucked away. When these moments struck her, they were hard for her to deal with. There was no one to come home to that would be proud of her accomplishments, or want to hear the stories that went with the victories that put here where she was now in society. It was just her.

That was how she ended up in front of the estate that he had laid claim too. She wasn't sure if it was a good idea to be there…maybe she was too emotional, or seeming too weak, or hell maybe he was sleeping and would rather not be bothered.

Whatever she was thinking, she still lock picked her way into the estate, closing and relocking the door behind her and walking silently through the hallways to the room he had made his own. He was stretched out across the bed in the corner, one arm tucked behind his head and his other on top of an open book that was resting on his chest. He must have been practicing his reading. Now, he was quietly sleeping. For a long moment she watched him before moving over near the fireplace and taking a seat in the chair she usually occupied.

Even if he wasn't going to pay attention to her, she would at least not feel alone. That's just how things were with him. It had always been that way since they met it seemed…only making the feeling more intense after they spent that night together that neither of them would talk about. It was strange to say the least. They were closer, it was clear, and yet so much farther apart that Hawke didn't know what to make of it really. She supposed that she didn't need to know however…for tonight this was enough.

She sighed, letting herself let go of some of the things she was holding onto as she felt safe with him nearby. Staring into the fire she watched the flames jump and dance as her eyelids grew heavier and she slumped in the chair some, letting her eyes close to get some rest.

It was well into the night before Fenris stirred, mumbling something under his breath before he was sitting up with a yawn, the book on his chest sliding off to the mattress. He looked to it and then carefully closed it before casting his look around the room in habit. Instantly he was on his feet at the figure that was slumped in one of the chairs in the room. Old habits died hard and panic seized him for a few seconds before he realized who was there. What?

He moved over to her, tilting his head as he studied her. She was sleeping and she had been for a while, considering it would take some time to get comfortable in that armor and where she chose to nap. Why she was here was another matter. He reached out, his thumb caressing the small crease in her brow that said her mind was filled with something unpleasant while she slept. Fenris couldn't help but smile as the look smoothed away at his touch, replaced with a more serene expression. Stepping back he sat himself in the chair opposite of her, resting an elbow on his knee before he dropped his chin in his hand to just watch her. Hawke. His Hawke…even she had moments where she wasn't so sure of herself. She always came to him. Mostly they just sat like they were now, save she was awake, but other times…he held her.

Held her, touched her…poisoned her. Though she willingly took that poison he supposed. What they had between them was sketchy at best when it crossed the bounds of friendship. At moments it was if they were truly together and it was that easy. Others they couldn't even make eye contact…and despite those moments of space between them she insisted on coming back to him. To him, into his arms, leaving her heart open for him to poison.

Fenris was broken from his thoughts as she stirred some, whispering his name before giving a sigh and settling again. Was he even on her mind when she slept? Then again he had no room to talk…she invaded his dreams constantly. There was a place where he didn't run from her when things got intense. He stayed with her, loved her, felt free with her. In the realm outside the Fade however…he was scared. His eyes turned to the window, measuring the time by how high the moon sat above the rooftops…it would still be a few hours before morning.

His head snapped back to her as the sudden scraping of armor on the stone and wood and the startled breath she let out as she bolted awake, sitting up in the chair and blinking as she got her bearings. It was several long seconds before she noticed he was there and as she watched him a long silence ensued.

He was awake…she hadn't meant to fall asleep. Just stay long enough for that empty feeling to ebb some. She knew he wouldn't' appreciate waking up to her being there…it would tip off his sense of safety to know that she had been there the whole time, as he slept unaware of another person so close to him while he was vulnerable. The silence was uncomfortable and she shifted before finally being the one to avert her eyes. Swallowing she got up and turned on her boot heel. "Sorry." The one word apology was all she gave before she started for the door.

"Stay." Fenris watched as his command, and his plea, were answered by the pause in her steps before she had even made it out of the room. He got up and moved over to her, coming to stand behind her. Close enough that he could feel both the heat of her body and the chill of her armor and his breath lightly ruffled her hair despite him not being close enough to actually touch her. "What are you doing here?"

Hawke was keenly aware of him behind her, so close and yet so far. Both holding onto boundaries they would feel lost without. She didn't move, didn't turn to him or anything. "I…" Did she even want to show him that vulnerability she indeed possessed as anyone did? "I felt...alone. I didn't know where else to go." She frowned in spite of herself, tensing lightly as she felt his hand rest on her shoulder and then she was facing him as he had urged her to turn around.

His eyes met with her own, watching the storm of things that went on in them silently. Somewhere they head learned to speak to one another without words. Words often got complicated and jumbled anyhow. It was times like now, when she had that look in her eyes that he wished he hadn't walked away from her. Or that she hated him. But neither were the truth and thus here they existed in this fragile way with one another. Instinctively he drew closer to her and rested his hands at her waist, breaths mingling for a moment before her turned his head away, averting his eyes and dropping his hands from her waist. Knowing better than to comfort her that way. To make it all the more confusing.

"Please?"

That one word made him close his eyes and frown in his own frustration. He knew why she asked…because she had explained it to him before. Sure she had a lot of friends but none of them had what they did, even discounting their intimate encounter. She confided in him because he offered no opinion or judgment unless she asked. He told her the truth when she needed to hear it as well. In weaker moments, he would take her into his arms and hold her close to him, his hands running through her hair as her head rested against his chest. Sometimes his lips would brush her temple. Give them both another dose of poison that would cloud things further between them.

His silence must have lasted too long before he felt the cool air wrap around his body as she stepped away from him. A silent rejection being acknowledged respectfully. What did she do in those moments he wondered…did she go home and cry? Go to the Blooming Rose and find solace while losing herself to someone else? His eyes move down to the red fabric he constantly wore around his wrist…another silent answer that neither of them brought up. A promise made in the dark and…love.

She knew better…but even surrounded by friends she sometimes felt alone still. He was the only one that didn't make her feel that way. Most would call her crazy for that thought…he had left her utterly alone, after all. This was indeed weak of her, and wrong. Wanting his affection to make herself feel better, pleading with him even if he didn't want to help. One embrace could anchor her to the world sometimes. He was often the one to give it. But not this time. She steeled her nerves. "Goodnight Fenris."

He only looked back to her when he heard her steps, watching her leave. It was his fault…he wasn't strong enough to be what she needed anymore. Too many things left unsaid. Unresolved. She needed him to be able to stand for the both of them and he wasn't sure he could. Not with his past still chasing him. It was hard for him to understand how she could hold onto him like she did. Perhaps he was stringing her along…he wouldn't put it past himself. He knew that he needed her in some way that he still didn't fully understand.

He did know that it was poison to them both and they both knew it but again and again they came back to drink it. Like a child who'd discovered a treat and though told it was bad for them, kept partaking in the pleasure. It tasted sweet but it was slowly killing them. He didn't mind if his heart broke and it killed him that way…but he did care if she was doing just that. She needed an antidote and he wasn't sure he, the same thing that poisoned her, could be that…but one often didn't know until they tried the cure.

Fenris had had this internal conversation with himself many times and it always seemed to end the same way, with no resolution. This time however…he didn't know if he could see that look on her face once more time. There were things he had been putting off and if wanted any hope to at the very least never have her look at him in that heartbroken way again, he had to tend to them.

Perhaps it was ironic that he had to sit down at the table and then use the skills Hawke had taught him to pen out the words that he wasn't sure he wanted to write down. So much could go wrong but so much could go right. What was it Hawke was saying all the time? That sometimes you had to just leap rather than look first, take the chance. Sometimes you got your legs broken, sometimes you didn't. She was a woman who did a lot of leaping like that and so far each time it seemed she ended up broken…but she still kept leaping.

He took a breath and held it for a long moment before he was dipping the quill in his hand into ink and planning to put still sloppily formed words to parchment. Again he paused, a small ink blot forming where the quill rested…he wasn't sure how to start. Perhaps it was better to skip the pleasantries and get right to who he wanted.

"_Varania,"._


End file.
